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PERSONAL MEMOIRS OF 
JOHN H. BRINTON 



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PERSONAL MEMOIRS 

OF 

JOHN H. BRINTON 

Major and Surgeon U. S. V. 
1861-1865 



Frontispiece Portrait 




NEW YORK 

THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1914 



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Copyright, 1914 by 
The Neale Publishing Company 






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DEC 31 1914 



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TABLE OF CONTENTS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTORY NOTE BY S. WEIR MITCHELL . 9 
INTRODUCTION BY J. H. BRINTON .... 11 

CHAPTER 

I.— THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR .... IS 
The awakening of Philadelphia — Warriors all — The ar- 
rival of the host — Family councils — Brigade Surgeon — First 
Impressions of Washington — Lincoln and the ill-omened 
flag — Equipment for man and beast — Final preparations. 

II.— LEAVING HOME 31 

"Good-bye" — St. Louis in 1861 — Fremont and politics — Uni- 
forms and authority — To Cairo — First meeting with Grant 
— Characteristics — Medical Director Simons. 

Ill— MOUND CITY HOSPITAL 40 

A hospital to create — Mississippi Turtles — Dirt and diffi- 
culties — Plague o' men — Plague o' women — Lynch law at 
close quarters — Vicissitudes of a surgeon's life — In touch 
with the North — Watchwords of the night. 

IV.— CAIRO, 1861 55 

Within the lines on the Mississippi — Rebel sketches — Ap- 
pointment of Medical Director of South Eastern Missouri — 
How to read the regulations — Helplessness of recruits — The 
problem of "Contract Doctors" — Grant again — Malaria. 

v.— THE BATTLE OF BELMONT ^\ 

The best cure for malaria — A battle in the air — The first 
shot in earnest — Bucephalus — Medical director in the field — 
"Grim War" and its victims — With General Grant under 
fire — The sound of a bullet — Tragedies of the wounded — 
Winning the "family spurs" — Lost in the enemy's country. 

VI.— INCIDENTS OF THE FIGHT 87 

Incidents of the battle of Belmont — The coward — Rigor 
mortis — Ghostly news — The making of a surgeon — Strange 
adventures of a box of instruments — Reports of a medical 
director, 

5 



Table of Contents 



CHAPTEB PAGE 

VII.— CAPE GIRARDEAU, MO.— CAIRO, ILL. . . 75-85 
Cape Girardeau, Mo. — "Jef" Thompson's note to Grant — 
The Fourth Estate — Contraband letters — Christmas and 
New Year's in the field — McClernand's expedition — Support 
from General Grant — A river skirmish. 

VIII.— ST. LOUIS 107 

Board duty again — St. Louis — Social and military life — 
"Secesh" sentiments — Grateful patients — Back to Grant — 
To Cairo. 

IX.— FORT HENRY— FORT DONELSON . . . .113 
Devastation of war — On Grant's staff before Donelson — 
Grant's unerring prophecy — Hospital organization — Field 
surgery — A question of precedence — A sortie by the enemy 
— Staff equipment — The beau ideal of an army leader — Song 
of the shell. 

X.— INCIDENTS OF THE SIEGE OF FORT DONELSON 124 
Medical problems — Removal of the wounded — Overcrowd- 
ing — Methodist valor — Forty-five shots — Warrior surgeons 
— French Frank to the rear — "Fort Donelson will surrender 
to-morrow" — A historic interruption — "No terms to damned 
rebels" — Grant under suspicion — My report to McPherson 
— Grant and the relics — The future president and a war 
doctor dream of diplomacy — The lamentable catastrophe of 
Gen. Rawlins' horse — Arrival of Nelson's troops — Incidents 
on field and water — A "Secesh" pony — A question of per- 
sonal courage — Troubles for Grant — The sword from his 
Belmont Colonels — A remarkable occurrence — "Doctor, 
wherever I go, I want you to come." 

XL— UP THE TENNESSEE 151 

In search of food — My friend the spy — Board duty — Medi- 
cal director of the Army of the Tennessee — My rebel pris- 
oner — Death of General Smith — A notable American officer 
— Sheridan and the mint juleps. 

XII.— AFTER SHILOH WITH HALLECK . . .162 

Bunking with "Captain" Sheridan — Broken bones — "Punch" 
in the field — Headquarters advance to Corinth — Ordered to 
Washington — Grant's offer to take me on his military staff 
— A Philadelphia welcome. 

XIII.— SURGICAL HISTORY OF THE REBELLION . 169 
Board duties — Beginning of the surgical history of the 
Rebellion — Examining boards — Appearance of Washington 
— Hammond — Fortress Monroe — Jamestown and inspection 
duty — McClellan and Grant. 



Table of Contents 7 

CBAPTEB PAGE 

XIV.— THE SURGEON-GENERAL'S OFFICE . . .179 
Inception of the army medical museum — The Corcoran 
Building — Obtaining specimens — Selection and transporta- 
tion — Visits to the field — The contest for a limb — Sidelights 
on the alcohol problem — A cure for whiskey tapping — The 
varied uses of cherry brandy — ^Vicissitudes of the museum. 

XV.— FORTUNES OF WAR 19S 

On duty at Alexandria — Medical Director of transporta- 
tion — Difficulties and demoralization — Plague o' nurses 
again — Halleck the dictator. 

XVI.— SOUTH MOUNTAIN— ANTIETAM .... 202 
Reorganization of the Army of the Potomac — South Moun- 
tain and Antietam — Special orders — Battlefield hospitals — 
Rigor mortis — English visitors. 

XVII.— THE FIRST FREDERICKSBURG . . . .213 
Fredericksburg — Burnside in command — Court-house surgery 
— Steeple spying — The aftermath of a cannonade — Dismal 
scenes — "Bag of Bones" — The Surgeon-General in the field. 

XVIIL— VARIED LABORS 223 

Special duties at Annapolis — Wounded prisoners from the 
Southern prison pens — Hospital gangrene and bromide treat- 
ment — Louisville and Nashville — Sheridan again — With the 
Army of the Potomac once more — The President to Chan- 
cellorsville — Secret orders — Figuring the losses. 

XIX.— GETTYSBURG 236 

After Chancellorsville — Offensive and defensive generals — 
Grant and Jomini — Gettysburg after the fight — The slough 
of despond — The trophy scandal — Civilian grave diggers — 
Burying dead horses — German greed — Field burials — A 
martinet. 

XX.— OF THINGS MEDICAL AND MILITARY AT 

WASHINGTON 247 

Washington in the summer of '63 — The Army Medical 
Board — Strange candidates — Kansas autobiographies — ^"A 
passing board of a repeating board" — The hospital register 
Visits North — Washington life. 

XXL— NO ARMY MEDICAL SCHOOL— METROPOLI- 
TAN CLUB 257 

The Army medical school — A quietus from the Secretary of 
War — The Metropolitan Club and some of its members — 
New Year's, 1864 — Washington society. 



8 Table of Contents 

CHAPTEB PAGE 

XXII.— THE PRESIDENT AND SOME LESSER DIGNI- 
TARIES 26s 

Lincoln in the hospital — "But how about the soldiers?" — 
General Grant — Campaigning — To Fredericksburg — Sani- 
tary commissioners — A surgeon's joke — With Grant again 
under fire — Medical purveyor of the army. 

XXIIL— JAMES RIVER AND CITY POINT . . .275 
White House — James River— Grant's cabin at City Point — 
General Early before Washington — Field scenes — Surgical 
history again — Collecting illustrations — Hammond's trial — 
His successor, 

XXIV.— SHERIDAN'S CAMPAIGN AND FIELD WORK 290 
In charge at Winchester — Wanton destruction — The v^romen 
still once more — Winchester — The war of the kettle — Sheri- 
dan — Hospital difficulties and successes — Ordered to Wash- 
ington. 

XXV.— RELIEVED FROM DUTY IN SURGEON-GENER- 
AL'S OFFICE 307 

Relieved from the Surgeon-General's office — The decapita- 
tion of St. Denis — Louisville, Kentucky — Medical director to 
General Rosecrans, St. Louis. 

XXVI.— LOUISVILLE— ST. LOUIS— ROSECRANS'S MIS- 
SOURI MARCH .315 

President of the Army Medical Board — Political prisoners 
— A lover's war strategy and a doctor's intervention. 

XXVIL— ST. LOUIS 322 

St. Louis society — General Rosecrans — Departmental diplo- 
macies — Nashville, Tennessee — Medical director of hospitals 
— Prisoners — Mrs. Polk — Hospital mismanagement — Negro 
hospitals — Refugees. 

XXVIIL— LIFE AT NASHVILLE— LECTURES— HOME . 342 
Life at Nashville — A ghoul-like duty — Military medical 
lectures — Resignation — Final preparations — Home. 

APPENDIX 353 

INDEX 359 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

The College of Physicians of Philadelphia, the oldest 
medical society in America, had, during the War of the 
Rebellion and up to 1866, an average of 186 fellows. 
Of these, fifty held commissions in the regular or volun- 
teer service, and seven in the navy. 

Among those early commissioned, in 1861, was John 
Hill Brinton, the author of the present memoirs. His 
story does not relate how much of growing surgical 
practice and successful teaching he gave up to serve a 
great cause. Neither he nor others as faithful and as 
distinguished, expected or received the honors which 
fell to officers of the line. No statue celebrates, no 
commemorative tablet records their services. These men, 
who were not less busy in the camps than in battle, suf- 
fered by wounds, disease, and prisons as, and in like 
proportion with, other officers, although technically re- 
garded as non-combatants. 

In the front rank of this remarkable list of surgeons, 
whose only records are their permanent contributions 
to the art of the surgery of war, was the man who tells 
here his story of the war, as seen from the position of 
one who was the close friend of General Grant through- 
out that great soldier's life. The trials, risks, and tri- 
umphs of a remarkable army career as a surgeon are here 
related in a simple, direct way, and cast interesting side 
lights on many of the generals, and even on the campaigns 
the writer saw. 

Soldiers from private to commander-in-chief have 

9 



10 Introductory Note 

related their personal stories of the great war, but the 
physicians who served have nowhere as adequately told 
their side of unrewarded peril and service as is done in 
the notable record of which I am privileged to say these 
introductory words. 

John H. Brinton was born in Philadelphia, May 21, 
1832. He was graduated from the University of Penn- 
sylvania in 1850 (from which institution he received 
the degree of LL.D. in 1901), and in medicine from the 
Jefferson College in 1852. Commissioned Brigade Sur- 
geon, U. S. Volunteers, in August, 1 861, he became under 
General Grant at Cairo his trusted medical director. He 
died on March 8, 1907. 

He may be left to relate the story of his army life, 
of his connection with the Surgical and Medical His- 
tory of the War, and of his creation of the Army 
Medical Museum. 

His later life as the competent successor in the chair 
of surgery of Professor S. D. Gross, and his career in 
surgical practice, will be elsewhere told, but I cannot 
close this brief statement without a word of what he was 
in other relations, a man with whose friendship I was 
honored for two-thirds of my life. His straightforward 
ways, his perfect rectitude in every social relation, a cer- 
tain kindliness and simpleness, won for him the esteem 
and affection of the many whom he honored with his 
friendship, while his unswerving fidelity to every duty, 
large or small, was an example of what my profession 
may make of a man who brought to it all that is best in 
the way of the character of a well-bred gentleman. 

S. Weir Mitchell. 



INTRODUCTION 

My dear Children: — 

My book is finished; the illustrations have been col- 
lected ; I have everything ready to go to the bookbinders, 
— and now I ask myself why I have written all this. The 
question is hard to answer, at all events, truthfully and 
completely. It may be that I want you to know some- 
thing about the War. — No, that is not it; it is not the 
War, for that no doubt you can find in the books and 
histories which are being written, and which will be 
written. It is rather, I think, that I want you to know 
something about myself , and what and whom I saw, and 
what I was doing during those four years, which formed 
so prominent a part of the lives of the men of that day. 
For you must know that then, the War, to all of us, 
was everything, it was all in all. The past was for- 
gotten ; the future we scarcely dared to think of ; it was 
all then the grim present, in which everyone tried to do 
his best, and in which almost every gentleman felt it 
his duty to take his share. Like the rest, I went out, 
and strangely enough happened to see more of the great 
men of the War than often falls to the lot of a medical 
man. In fact my "details of duty" were always with 
the generals, the great generals of the day, and in high 
places, and I was thus placed in daily intercourse with 
men who were earning for themselves illustrious names. 
One of these, whom I counted my friend, afterwards 
became one of our nation's greatest men, — in fact he was 
growing great when I knew him, making for himself, 



12 Introduction 

and for his country, history, accomplishing great deeds, 
and bringing about great results by the simple plan of 
doing each day's duty as well as he knew how, leaving to 
the Future the summing up of his work and trusting to 
the judgment of his countrymen. You will guess that 
I am speaking of General Grant. 

Then too, with Sheridan and Rosecrans, I was on 
terms of friendship and lived in intimacy; and so with 
McPherson, whom I loved, and all four of whom I 
attended professionally. President Lincoln I knew 
slightly, and visited at the White House, and Secretary 
of War Stanton, and Generals Halleck, Thomas and 
Meade I knew well, and many others whose names you 
may meet in these pages. General George B. McClellan, 
as you know, was my first cousin, named, perhaps, after 
my father, as well as after his own. 

To the next generation the "War of the Great Re- 
bellion" will be almost as far away as that of the Revo- 
lution, or the French War of '57, or the Civil War of 
England, or the Punic Wars. Yet the War of 1861- 
1865, the "Scorpion War," the "War between the 
States," the "Civil War," "The Rebellion," when fought 
to a close, accomplished the preservation of our country, 
in which you, my descendants, will, I hope, be privi- 
leged long to live and do your duty. 

Now let me say one more word of myself, and con- 
fess one more reason for the writing of these pages. 
You remember that the great Mr. Pickwick (never 
forget him) on a memorable occasion said, — "He (Mr. 
Pickwick) would not deny that he was influenced by 
human passions and human feelings, possibly, by human 
weaknesses." Now, My Dears, like that great man I, 
too, plead guilty to human passions and feelings and 
weaknesses. I confess to you that I wish to be kindly 



Introduction 13 

thought of by those of my blood who may follow me, 
even though I shall never know them, and that I want 
you to feel that I love you all dearly, born and unborn. 

Occasionally I have (and I like to have) queer fancies, 
and one of these is that some day these lines and this 
book may fall into some fair hands, and that she read- 
ing may say to herself, "He was a nice kindly old 
fellow, this ancestor of mine, I wish I could know him." 
She will not know me, but I shall see her and know her, 
if there be, as I believe there must be, both knowledge 
and vision in a disembodied spirit from another sphere. 
Even now I fancy I can see her in the future, a dark 
haired girl, lounging on a sofa, half dreaming over 
my pages. I imagine I can almost trace her features, 
and touch her dress, and know its colors. My Dear, 
try and believe that as you may be, when you read this, 
I see you now, in the bright month of June, 1891, Sun- 
day the 14th. 

J. H. Brinton. 

June 14, 1891. 



Personal Memoirs of John H. 
Brinton 

CHAPTER I 

THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR 

The war began, with the flash of the first gun fired on 
Fort Sumter, in Charleston Harbor, S. C, on Friday, the 
1 2th day of April, 1861. From that moment the spirit 
of the North changed, discussion ceased, political argu- 
ments were at an end, and almost absolute unanimity 
prevailed, the only question was how best to establish 
the supremacy of the Government, and how to vindicate 
its authority; in short, the problem was how to preserve 
the unity and majesty of the Nation, and how soonest 
to trample out the doctrines of disintegration and 
"secession." 

I well remember walking down Chestnut Street, in 
front of the Continental Hotel, with my cousin Brinton 
Coxe, just after the attack on Fort Sumter was authen- 
tically announced on the bulletin boards. The effect on 
the people was instantaneous and indescribable. For the 
time, or rather at the instant, "mere party lines," as 
Mr. Coxe expressed it, "ceased to exist, — for the North 
had become a Nation, determined to fight for its exist- 
ence, and resolved to accomplish its salvation." 

The North now prepared for war; for the first time 

IS 



16 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

it realized that the sword was the only umpire, and that 
on it, must the life of a nation depend. Then came 
the first call for troops, the proclamation of President 
Lincoln, and the disastrous battle of Bull Run, on the 
2 1st of July, 1861. Business of every kind, at all events 
the businesses of Peace, were disturbed. The spirit 
of war, or the spirit of patriotism, call it which you will, 
seemed to seize upon all. Men became fierce-minded, 
and the most respectable and quiet-spirited persons were 
thus affected. Drill companies were formed, and the 
mildest individuals, earnestly, industriously and consci- 
entiously practiced the manual. At one time a strange 
rumor was circulated that the Southern people were 
about to march on Pennsylvania, with the intention of 
sacking Philadelphia. Our citizens rushed to arms, and 
every man, young and old, purchased a pistol, — a re- 
volver if he could, if not, a pistol of some description 
to defend his altar and his hearth-stone. Everybody 
bought, and I can hardly keep from laughing, as I recall 
the solemnity with which the subject was discussed by 
solemn men in my profession, and how advice was eag- 
erly sought and given, as to where to procure fire-arms. 
Pistols went up in price, — one could hardly obtain them ; 
for a day or two the supply was exhausted. I remem- 
ber purchasing one, a discreditable looking affair with 
a white handle. As I walked away from the shop, I 
met Dr. John Forsyth Meigs, who had just purchased 
one for himself. He was preeminently a man of peace, 
a doctor for children and infants, but the spirit of war 
had seized him too. My pistol, I afterwards exchanged 
for the navy pattern of Colt's revolver, which I carried 
through the war, and which I never discharged, except 
at a mark. Once I aimed it at a man who was about 
to shoot me, but I will tell you of this later. That pistol 



The Outbreak of the War 17 

saved my life, I think, so I do not regret the eleven dol- 
lars I paid for it. 

In response to the call for "three months men," mili- 
tary companies were hastily formed and mustered in. 
Young men everywhere hastened to offer themselves to 
the Government, and it soon came about, that every 
young fellow you met was on his way to active service. 
They went in every capacity, as company officer, staff 
officer, quarter master, pay master, commissary of sub- 
sistence, and in fact, in whatever position or grade they 
could obtain appointments. 

I remember very distinctly in these early days of the 
war, meeting on one occasion at the corner of Tenth and 
Spruce Streets, a young Friend, a very pearl of neatness, 
and a man well known in social life. He was carefully 
picking his way across the muddy street, mentally ab- 
sorbed in preserving the cleanliness of his boots. Look- 
ing up, he saw me, and called out, "Dr. Brinton, will 
you kindly stop one moment. I want to ask you a ques- 
tion. Perhaps you can give me some information. Can 
you tell me what a 'commissary of subsistence' is? I 
have just been appointed one, and I have not an idea 
as to the duty of that officer. Can you tell me anything 
about it?" This gentleman, then so ignorant, after- 
wards greatly distinguished himself in that branch of 
the service. 

Like the rest of the men of my age, I soon began to 
feel restless at home. I felt that I was not doing my full 
duty; that home was now no place for me. Yet as an 
only son, upon whom rested the business cares of the 
family, I dreaded to speak to my dear Mother on the 
subject. She may have guessed my feelings; at all 
events she spoke first ; and one evening she surprised me 
by saying to me, "My dear son, do you not think that 



18 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

you ought to be out with the army, doing what share 
you can for the country?" When I expressed my great 
desire to go, she added "that she was glad of it, as she 
had almost felt grieved that I had not gone before." So 
the way was made easy for me to enter the service. 

I naturally determined to go in my professional ca- 
pacity, and I therefore decided to enter the Corps 
of "brigade surgeons," a grade of medical officers cre- 
ated by an act of Congress, approved July 22nd, 1861. 
By a later act of Congress, approved July 2nd, 1862, 
brigade surgeons were thereafter to be known as "sur- 
geons of volunteers," and were attached to the General 
Medical Staff, under the direction of the Surgeon Gen- 
eral. 

In order to be eligible to the position of brigade 
surgeon, it was necessary to pass an examination before 
a board of medical officers of the regular army, and, 
on their favorable report, to receive the appointment with 
the approval of the Senate. On the 18th of June, 1861, 
I made application to the Surgeon General for per- 
mission to present myself for examination for the grade 
of brigade surgeon about to be created, for although 
the act creating that grade had not yet been passed, it 
was well known that it would be passed, and all prepa- 
rations were made to fill promptly the future positions. 
In a few days, I received a reply from the Surgeon 
General, dated June 20th, 1861, directing me to apply 
to the Secretary of War for the necessary permit. This 
I did, and having received the requisite authorization, I 
went to Washington, for my examination, on or about 
July 3rd, 1 86 1. I was not kept long in waiting, the 
examination which was chiefly a written one was not 
very rigid, and at its conclusion I was informed that 



The Outbreak of the War 19 

the result was satisfactory, and that I might return home 
and await my commission. 

During this, my first visit to Washington, I stopped at 
Willard's Hotel, on Pennsylvania Avenue, near the 
treasury building. The city was crowded, the hotels 
filled to overflowing. People of all sorts were rush- 
ing busily about, and the weather was very warm. Ac- 
tive preparations for the coming war were being made 
on all sides. At the same time there appeared to be a 
lack of confidence. Matters were apparently in a cha- 
otic state: the sympathy for the North was not strong 
or widespread, — on the contrary the sympathy of many 
of those who lived in Washington was directed towards 
the South. It seemed to be generally expected, if indeed 
not wished for, that the southern states would win, and 
succeed in their attempt to withdraw from the union, 
and thus overthrow the national government. Exag- 
gerated accounts of the organization, discipline, and 
forward state of preparation of the southern states came 
from every quarter, and the names of their political and 
military leaders were on many lips. Against this chilling 
state of despondency, and unbelief in the stability of our 
Government, the administration was stoutly struggling, 
as but few Washingtonians trusted the President, or 
expected that any good would come through such a 
"Nazarene." His jestures, manners, mode of speech, 
and deportment, were ridiculed, and few, if any, could 
believe that a great man stood in their midst. Disaffec- 
tion stalked everywhere, and a sense of isolation had ap- 
parently crept over those who administered, and those 
who believed, in the national government. The inci- 
dents of the hour, too, were disheartening. Of one of 
these I was a witness. 

It had been announced that on the afternoon of the 



20 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

4th of July, the President, surrounded by his cabinet, 
would publicly hoist the flag of the United States on a 
high flagpole, planted in the grounds in the rear of the 
White House. The hour arrived, and a large crowd 
had gathered to witness the ceremony. The day had 
been warm, and in the afternoon a heavy shower of 
rain had set in. The President and his suite stood 
under a tent, or marque^e, which surrounded the base of 
the flagpole. By the side of the pole, an opening had 
been made in the canvas roof, intended to be sufficiently 
large to allow the great flag of the stars and stripes 
to be hoisted through it. As soon as the usual speeches 
were concluded. President Lincoln, grasping the hal- 
yards, pulled them vigorously. Up went the flag. It was 
a tight fit, but by sheer strength, the President hoisted it 
through the opening, and it slowly rose above the tent 
roof. According to every poetic and patriotic inspira- 
tion, it should have unfurled and fluttered in the breeze. 
This it did not do. The heavy rain caused it to dangle, 
and hang limp, and, what was worse, a projecting nail 
caught in the "union," and as the flag went wearily up, 
a strip of blue bunting, charged with eleven white stars, 
was ripped out, and fell helplessly downwards to the 
roof. But the President could see nothing of this, and 
feeling the resistance, tugged away all the more man- 
fully, until the torn strip was freed and was dragged 
upwards, hanging from the body of the flag. The eleven 
stars, the emblems of the eleven seceding states, thus 
torn from their "Union Firmament" seemed, in very 
truth, a sorry omen to those who stood anxiously watch- 
ing. For my own part, I turned away shuddering, al- 
most overcome by a superstitious horror and fear. I 
saw all this take place, but I am not aware that any 



The Outbreak of the War 21 

newspaper notice or publicity was given to the occur- 
rence. 

On that same evening, I returned home, and in a 
few days learned from a private source that I had 
passed my examination satisfactorily, and in proper time 
would be commissioned. Mr. Thomas A. Scott was act- 
ing Secretary of War, and Mr. Leslie, who was a friend, 
and an assistant, of Mr. Scott, was a relative or con- 
nection of my friend, Dr. William Thomson, from 
whom I learned the little secret of my commission before 
it was fairly due. It is the history of all courts, royal 
and republican, that very many feet tread up and down 
the back stairs. 

The month of July dragged slowly on, and every- 
where, throughout the North and the South, troops were 
being mustered in. On April 14th, President Lincoln 
issued his call for 75,000 volunteers; early in May more 
than 200,000 had been called for ; and immediately after 
the battle of Bull Run in Virginia, Congress ordered a 
call for 500,000 more. At the same time, Congress made 
an appropriation of $500,000,000 to meet the expense of 
the Army and Navy. 

And now, let me tell you something about the Battle 
of Bull Run, which was fought on July 21st, 1861. For 
some weeks the Confederate Generals had been busily 
collecting their forces, and had massed them at Bull 
Run (I use the common name), thus directly threaten- 
ing Washington. The troops of the United States had 
.meanwhile been hurried on from the North, and were 
stationed at and near Washington, prepared to attack 
the Southern army. Early on the morning of the 21st 
of July (Sunday) the Federal forces moved forward, 
and encountered the Confederates near what was known 
as the Stone Bridge, at Manassas, or Bull Run. A sharp 



22 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

fight took place which ended in a panic-stricken, dis- 
graceful retreat of the United States Army back to 
Washington, with a loss of four or five hundred killed, 
and twelve or fifteen hundred wounded.* As usually 
happened in a rout of this kind, the defeated parties 
spread the most exaggerated account of the number and 
bravery of their foes, and the entire country was soon 
ringing with the terrible stories of the fierce Virginia 
Cavalry, "The Black Horse Cavalry," as they were 
styled, and the prowess of the Southern forces. 

General Winfield Scott was at this time in command 
of the army of the United States with the rank of 
Lieutenant General. His original entry into service was 
in 1808, as captain of light artillery. He was a Vir- 
ginian, and appointed from his native state, and was at 
this time, therefore, very old, but was looked upon, both 
in and out of the army, as a good soldier, and enjoyed 
a high reputation due to his conduct of the Mexican 
war. He doubtless was in his time a good soldier, 
though very fond of military ostentation, for which he 
was sometimes nicknamed "old fuss and feathers." His 
plans for the advance of the Union army would seem 
to have been well laid, but his troops were new levies, 
and his orders were imperfectly carried out. On ac- 
count of his advanced age, General Scott remained in 
Washington, and did not participate in the active move- 
ments of the army. 

I am afraid that some of the troops of the North 
behaved in this battle in a rather shabby manner, and 
it may be that if the Southern generals had pushed 

♦Federal losses were 460 killed and 1,124 wounded; the Confed- 
erate losses were 387 killed and 1,582 wounded. Total number of 
troops engaged, Federal 30,000 and 43 guns ; Confederate 18,500 and 
55 guns. 



The Outbreak of the War 23 

boldly on to Washington, they might have taken the 
capital.* Fortunately, they did not do so, but halted 
where they were, fearing to advance. So the army was 
safe in Washington, and immediate steps were taken 
to protect the capital from an attack. Earthworks and 
forts were hastily erected, cannon were planted, and 
fresh troops were called for, and hurried down from 
the northern states. I nearly went to Washington at 
this time, for on the night following the battle of Bull 
Run, an order was sent to Philadelphia to hasten for- 
ward any soldiers who might be available for immediate 
service. A regiment, the 28th Pennsylvania Volunteers, 
was being recruited at this time by Colonel John W. 
Geary f (who, after the war, was elected Governor of 
Pennsylvania), of which Hector Tyndale was Major. 
A surgeon was wanted for the regiment and Major 
Tyndale applied to Prof. Joseph Pancoast for the name of 
some medical man who would volunteer in that capacity. 
My name was suggested, and accordingly Major Tyn- 
dale rang me up in the middle of the night to know 
whether I would accept the position. I told him that I 
expected an appointment from Washington, but that in 
the emergency I would go with his regiment. He told 
me to be ready to start the next day and I promised to 
do so. On the morrow, it was found that the regi- 
ment was not sufficiently armed to be of service, and 

* However, Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, the Confederate, states 
"Our army was more disorganized by victory than that of the 
United States by defeat." E. T. S. 

This and subsequent footnotes bearing the same initials are 
from the pen of Edward T. Stuart, Esq., of Philadelphia, a high 
authority on the Civil War, who also very kindly rendered valuable 
assistance in the editing of the original manuscript. — Ed. 

tCommonly called "the Marshal Ney of the Army of the 
Potomac." E. T. S. 



24 Personal Memoirs of John H, Brinton 

orders were issued from Washington to delay starting 
for a day or two until proper and sufficient arms could 
be furnished. In the meantime, I received, as I have 
already stated, an indirect communication from the war 
department, informing me of my appointment as brigade 
surgeon. Under the circumstances, I determined to 
await my commission at home, and transferred my ap- 
pointment as surgeon of Colonel Geary's regiment to 
Dr. Ernest Goodman, who went out with this com- 
mand and remained with it, doing good service, until 
much later in the war when he entered the staff corps 
of surgeons of volunteers. My commission as brigade 
surgeon, issued on August 8, 1861, to bear date from 
August 3rd, reached me in the latter days of that month. 

The news of the Battle of Bull Run created a deep 
sensation throughout the north. For the first time, it was 
realized that we were entering upon war in dead ear- 
nest, and that our southern foes intended to fight to 
the best of their ability. It became only too plain that 
the work we had undertaken was a most serious one, 
and that the resources of the loyal portion of the country 
would be severely taxed. No one could doubt that the 
war would be a long one; how long, no one could tell.* 
A few enthusiasts believed that the government would 
crush, "stamp out," as it was phrased, the rebellion, in 
a little while, but the more thoughtful realized the ter- 
rible earnestness of the South, and recognized the mili- 
tary ability of their leaders and generals. 

And here I must tell you, that when the wave of 
secession rolled over the South, carrying with it all 

*Gen. Winfield Scott declared that conquest of the South might be 
achieved "in two or three years, by a young and able general, — a 
Wolfe, a Desaix, a Hoche, with 300,000 disciplined men kept up to 
that number." E. T. S. 



The Outbreak of the War 25 

doubting souls, few, very few, remained loyal citizens, 
and these dared not speak, but could only cling in silence 
to their opinions. Before the war, the South was largely 
represented in our army, the profession of arms was 
attractive to those from that section, and their young 
men sought more eagerly than those of the North, a 
West Point education and a commission in the reg- 
ular service. So when the lines were strictly drawn, 
and secession was fairly entered upon, the officers of 
the old army generally went with their respective states. 
It happened, therefore, that in organizing the army of 
the confederate states, it was well supplied with trained 
officers, who had received a military education. Many 
of the officers of the old army of the United States 
left it with regret. They remained in it until their 
states had formally seceded, when they resigned their 
commissions, and followed their state flags. Having 
once entered upon their new positions, they fought 
bravely and well, and sustained the cause of secession 
until it fell from absolute exhaustion. 

The immediate effect of the battle of Bull Run was 
to elate the spirit of the South and to create a correspond- 
ing condition of depression in the North, In Phila- 
delphia, many took a most gloomy view of the situa- 
tion; thus, I remember a thoughtful, cool-headed man 
(the late Prof. Joseph Pancoast) at that time saying 
to me, "Doctor, no one can tell how all this will end; 
it will surely last ten years or more ; and possibly neither 
you nor I may live to see the end of it." 

Yet there were some who could see farther into the 
bank of the war-cloud. I can hear now the words of 
my Mother, and see the earnest expression of her face, 
as she came to my room door, early on the morning 
after the defeat at Bull Run, and told me the result, — 



26 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

that our troops had been put to flight, and that the rebels 
were triumphant. "It is far better," she said, "that it 
should be so, my son, for the war will go on now until 
the end shall be reached, and the curse of slavery wiped 
away. If our troops had won, it could not have been 
so, but now the war must go on. It will cost more 
lives, but the end will be more sure." She was indeed 
right in her judgment. 

Now that I was sure of my appointment, I busied 
myself in making ready for my future service, con- 
cerning which my ideas were very vague. Where it 
would be, or what it would be, I could not tell, but I 
pictured to myself all sorts of hardships, and so waited 
anxiously to know how my military life would begin. 
Before very long, the list of brigade surgeons was pub- 
lished, and I was well satisfied in my grade, being 
fourth on the list, the first four names standing thus : 

George H. Lyman, of Massachusetts. 

Frank H. Hamilton, of New York. 

Henry S. Hewitt, of Connecticut, appointed from New 
York. 

J. H. Brinton, of Pennsylvania. 

Dr. Hamilton had been a professor in New York, 
and was a brother-in-law of the chairman of the Senate 
Committee on Military Affairs; Dr. Hamilton was dis- 
tinguished as a professor of surgery, and the author of a 
treatise on "Fractures and Dislocations," and Dr. Hewitt 
had been an ex-assistant surgeon U. S. A., who had 
entered the corps of brigade surgeons — so I had no 
reason to be dissatisfied. 

I may add that on the nth of June, 1862, Dr. Lyman 
was made a medical inspector with the rank of Colonel, 
and on the 9th of February, 1863, Dr. Hamilton was 

promoted to the same rank. For the rest of the war, 



The Outbreak of the War 27 

Dr. Hewitt was the Senior "surgeon of volunteers," 
and I was second. After a short western experience of 
a most friendly nature, we two concluded that it was not 
well for us to be placed in the same command. By keep- 
ing apart, both of us thus secured the full value of our 
leading positions in the corps of surgeons of volunteers. 

Although my appointment as given in the army reg- 
ister dates from August 3rd, 186 1, my commission did 
not reach me until the end of August. The interval I 
occupied in making my final preparations. I had to 
bring my teachings to a close, and to care for the preser- 
vation of my anatomical possessions. The former was 
easily done as the southern students had ceased to come 
north, and those who had been here had returned to 
their homes. As for the northern students, for the 
most part, they were hurrying off to the war in different 
capacities. Then, too, I had to arrange to leave the 
affairs of our family estate in such a condition that they 
could be administered by my mother in my absence, and 
moreover, to procure my outfit, consisting of my uni- 
form, blankets, and all the accoutrements for "man and 
horse." 

Above all, I must think of my future steed, and 
diligently I sought him. Particularly do I recall a very 
black, broken kneed animal offered to me by a quite 
respectable gentleman. The horse had considerable 
action, with a very arched neck. In the innocence of 
my heart, I think I would have bought him, had not 
my good friend, honest John Ellis, whose stable was 
in the rear of our house, kindly whispered to me "Let 
him alone"; I did so, and in doing so probably saved 
myself a broken neck. 

And then I tried, too, a quite fierce animal, also 
black, with very large feet. They said he was up to 



28 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

\ 

my weight. I think he was, for as I recall him, I feel i| 
sure that he would have proved a most serviceable beast 
in a brewer's dray. Good horses were just then greatly ' 
sought in Philadelphia, so fortunately I waited. My 
uniform I purchased at Hughes and Miiller; tailors in 
Chestnut Street. It was very satisfactory, and the 
reinforcement of the breeches for riding was stupendous. 
When I afterwards came to wear these reinforced 
breeches, I felt as if a quilt had been placed between 
myself and the saddle. 

My blankets, I recollect, were deep blue, well dyed, 
and of extraordinary size. I bought them at a whole- 
sale store in Market Street below 9th. I heard of the 
place from Arthur McClellan, who was fitting up at this 
time, for his brother's * staff. These blankets proved to * 
be excellent, and I used them until after the battle of 
Shiloh, when I was ordered east. Then I parted with 
them, expecting easily to find their counterparts. But 
alas ! when I reached Washington, I found that the 
reign of shoddy had begun, and in vain might I search ' 
the loyal cities for a pair of honest blankets. 

My saddle and horse equipments, I bought of Lacey & 
Phillips, the leading harness makers of the city. The 
saddle, of capacious size, was of the "McClellan" pat- ] 
tern, in which the rider sat much as a two-pronged 
fork would straddle a round stick. He could not readily 
fall off, and yet it could not be said that he had any- , 
thing of a seat. This saddle, I afterwards exchanged jj 
for a '']Q.nmitv'' saddle, modeled after one designed by ' 
Captain Nolan of the 13th Hussars of the British Army, 
who was conspicuous in the Crimean War and who 
was the "some one who blundered" in the charge of the ^ 
light brigade at Balaklava. 

* Major-General George Brinton McClellan. 



The Outbreak of the War 29 

During all this time of waiting, I was impatiently 
anxious as to where I would be ordered. I hoped to 
be assigned to the Army of the Potomac, to the com- 
mand of which my cousin, George B. McClellan, was 
appointed July 27th, 1861, and I learned afterwards that 
General McCall, a personal friend, whom I had known 
at the Academy of Natural Sciences, and also General 
Franklin, had both been good enough to express a wish 
that I might be assigned to duty with them. I had yet 
to learn the lesson that, to a soldier, especially in times 
of active service, it should not matter what his detail 
of duty may be. A riper experience and the counsel 
of men old in the service, before long taught me that 
the surest, and most often the greatest success, is ob- 
tained by prompt and cheerful obedience to orders; and 
that in military life, it is utterly useless to attempt to 
arrange matters to suit one's comfort or personal con- 
venience. Chance, or rather let me say providence, so 
orders events, and so baffles human plans, that, as an 
old officer once told me, "It often happened that orders 
sought for, ended in regrets." 

You can understand, that dreaming nothing of all this, 
I was quite annoyed to receive this my first order: 

[SPECIAL ORDERS— No. 238] 

War Department, Adjutant General's Office, 

Washington, September 4, 186 1, 
3. The following Brigade Surgeons are assigned to 
duty as noted below, and will report accordingly : 
Surgeon J. H. Brinton, to Maj. Gen'l. J. C. Fremont, 
U. S. A., Commanding Dept. of the West. 
By Order 

(Signed) L. THOMAS, 

Adjutant General. 
Surg. Brinton. 



30 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

General Fremont's Headquarters were at this time 
at St. Louis, and with a heavy heart I set out to report 
to him. St. Louis seemed to me then to be very far 
away, and the accounts which had then reached us from 
the west of events past, and threatening to happen, were 
of a most unromantic and blood-curdhng character. 



CHAPTER II 



LEAVING HOME 



I remember, as it were only yesterday, my final pack- 
ing up, my leaving home, and the good-bye to all at 
the old house, 1423 Spruce Street. Even now, as I 
think of it, it seems as if I were going over it again. 
I see my dear Mother and my sisters, and I hear the 
"God bless you, my son," and the quiet leave taking, 
as I turned away to the carriage in waiting to take me 
to the depot of the Pennsylvania Railroad, which was 
then at nth and Market Streets, where the Bingham 
House now stands. My luggage was a sole leather trunk, 
with a big canvas cover, under which were nicely 
strapped my blankets, and on the outside, my buffalo 
robe and gum blanket. I was in fatigue uniform, a 
blue sack coat with brass buttons, and major's straps, 
blue trousers with gold cord down the side, a "regular 
army" falling cap, with a gold wreath, and a glazed 
cover, very different indeed from the smart French kepi, 
which afterwards came into vogue, but which I never 
fancied, and never wore. 

I took to the regular army from the start; I had seen 
considerable of the medical staff of the old army, as 
Dr. J. M. DaCosta and I had for years been preparing 
young doctors for the army, and young assistant sur- 
geons for their passing examination after five years of 
service. With my general acquaintance with the medical 

31 



32 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

staff, therefore, I had absorbed some of their traditions, 
and a good many of their prejudices. 

But I am not yet quite out of Philadelphia. Dr. 
DaCosta and my cousin Brinton Coxe, accompanied me 
to the railroad station and saw me off, by the night 
train, which left at ii o'clock. Sleeping berths of a 
very inferior pattern had just been introduced, and I 
considered myself very fortunate to procure an upper 
single berth. But I confess, that grown man as I was, 
and twenty-nine years of age, I felt very lonely upon 
departing, although anxious to join the army. 

I left Philadelphia, as nearly as I can remember, on 
the night of Monday, the ninth of September, 1861. 
After a considerable delay, I reached St. Louis very 
tired early on the morning of the 12th, and went to 
the Planters House, at that time the fashionable hotel 
of the city. The hotel swarmed with officers, con- 
tractors, and others busied with military affairs. I 
found St. Louis in a strange state; it was, I believe, 
under martial law, and preparations for war were being 
carried forward on all sides. The streets swarmed with 
soldiers, mostly Germans, and the hotels were crowded 
with money-making people, not a few of whom were 
Jews. A large number of the inhabitants, they said 
some fifty or sixty thousand, had already left the city, 
and I did not wonder, for there was everywhere a feel- 
ing of insecurity. 

After breakfast on the 12th of September, I put on 
my uniform frock coat, and started to report to General 
Fremont at his headquarters. But I could not get near 
him, as he was busily engaged in making a political 
speech from the steps or balcony of the building. The 
impression I received from the first, of this somewhat 
noted person, was not a very favorable one. He was a 



Leaving Home 33 

man of middle age, in major general's uniform. He 
was surrounded by a queer crowd of foreigners, Ger- 
mans, Hungarians and mixed nationalities, much over- 
uniformed, and rejoicing in gold belts and breast sashes 
unknown to our service. There was much jabbering 
and gesticulation, and the scene was most un-American. 
I was told that General Fremont had gathered around 
himself a host of adventurers, who seemed to look upon 
him as an autocrat, and to be forgetful of the existence 
of a national government. At the time I was in St. 
Louis, he was busy creating strange offices, and filling 
them with strange appointees. The selection of Fre- 
mont as the commandant of the western district was, 
I suppose, based upon political grounds. He was be- 
lieved to control the German settlement in Missouri, an 
element which had remained loyal to the Union, and in 
fact had preserved the state of Missouri for the Union; 
so looking back, after this long interval, perhaps the 
selection was not so bad after all, although certainly 
Fremont was little of a real soldier. 

After listening to the General's speech, and the ap- 
plause which followed it, I pushed my way through the 
middle of the crowd of civilians and soldiers, and reached 
the office of the adjutant general. Major Chauncy Mc- 
Keever, to whom I reported, and who treated me with 
the greatest courtesy and kindness. I am sure that he 
must have realized how young a soldier I was — how 
green in fact — and I know that he gave me some good 
advice, for which I was very grateful at the time, and 
which I did not forget. Among other things he in- 
formed me that the sooner I took myself away from St. 
Louis, and its mongrel soldiers, the better it would be 
for me, and added that I would receive my orders that 
afternoon, which I did, when I found that I was di- 



34 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

rected to proceed, without delay, to Cairo, Illinois, there 
to report to the Medical Director, Surgeon Simons, 
U. S. A. 

That afternoon, having dined at the Planters' House, 
I took a walk through the streets of St. Louis, and I 
remember quite well passing in front of a German 
regiment drawn up in line. As I stopped on the side- 
walk to look at them, I was thunderstruck to have the 
whole regiment present arms to me. At first, I could 
not take it in. But there was no mistake, — they were 
presenting arms to me; so I gravely raised my regular 
army cap, made the best salute I could in turn, and 
sauntered off, just as if I had been accustomed to that 
sort of thing all my life. However I can assure you 
that I had never, in my whole experience, felt quite so 
foolish before. The thing seemed to me to be little less 
than a swindle on my part. I was conscious of perpe- 
trating some sort of deception. I suppose that it must 
have been due to the extremely military appearance of 
my uniform, and most of all, perhaps, to my cap, which 
had already begun to assume a truly military swagger. 

My orders directed me to Cairo, Illinois, to report 
there to the medical director. I cannot at this time 
recall very much of the journey down, except that I 
went by rail, and arrived at Cairo very late in the night 
of the 14th of September. The train stopped on the 
levee, immediately in front of the St. Charles' Hotel, the 
only hotel of any size in Cairo. I was shown to my 
room — that is to say, I found myself entitled to one- 
third of a very dirty, dark, horrid sort of a chamber, 
containing two little beds, not double beds, and yet not 
single beds. It seemed that I was entitled to one-half 
of either of these beds, that is to say, if I were able 
to move the occupant of whichever I might select, away 



Leaving Home 35 

from the middle of the bed. A wretched, flickering, 
dirty gas light was burning, and I had an excellent 
chance to study the two sleepers, and to select which 
one, if either, was to be preferred. As far as I could 
determine, it was an even thing, for both were very 
dirty. Each of them had wrapped himself up in all 
the clothes of the bed, and each snored and grunted 
harmoniously with the other, as my movements startled 
him. I was not accustomed to that kind of thing, and 
even now as I recall that night, I laugh to myself to 
think how very wretched I was. A homesick feeling 
came over me, which I have not forgotten to this day. 
The more I looked at the lovely sleepers, the less I liked 
them, and so I made up my mind to disturb neither of 
them, but to wrap myself up in my blanket shawl, and 
to sleep on the very dirty floor. This I did, and dozed 
off^, feeling that never was there so dirty a floor, nor 
so miserable a soldier as myself. I tell you all this, 
because as you will find before long, I learned quite 
bravely how to rough it, but just at that time I was, 
to use the western language of the day "a featherbed 
fellow." In the morning, I was early enough off the 
floor, and having breakfasted, I started to report to 
Dr. Simons. I found him eventually in the third story 
of Safford's Bank, the headquarters of the general com- 
manding the district of Cairo, as it was designated at 
that time. Dr. Simons, who was a full surgeon in the 
regular army, was from South Carolina and dated his 
commission from July, 1839. He had been through the 
Mexican war and regarded himself as a typical soldier. 
He was full of old war remembrances and had much to 
tell of General Scott, and all the old army worthies. 
His wife, as he himself told me, was a Baltimore lady, 
the daughter, I think, of a gentleman whose leanings 



36 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

were to the United States government. Dr. Simons, 
from this cause, or possibly from native loyalty, had 
adhered to the old army and had not seceded with his 
state. Yet I could see that he felt lonely ; he was parted 
from all of his old associates, and he could not bring 
himself to any intimate companionship with the new 
men, with whom the new war brought him in contact. 
He had no medical confidant, no one to whom he could 
talk, and I saw at once that we probably would become 
good friends. 

In fact, Dr. Simons, who was a great talker, wanted 
some one to listen to him, and assist him in his pro- 
fessional work. I do not think he was very fond of 
this latter; he seemed to me to be more an army man 
than an army surgeon. However, he was kind to me 
and immediately assigned me to some work in connec- 
tion with the medical director's office. I had to pre- 
scribe for a great many sick, and I know that I did 
direct a vast quantity of Dover's powders. 

Dr. Simons advised me to leave the St. Charles Hotel 
at once, and to take boarding at the house in which 
he was staying, over Safford's Bank, stating that the 
headquarters were located there. By this he meant that 
the general and the staff boarded in the house, and I 
then found out that the lower story, the back offices 
in fact, or a part of them, were occupied by Brigadier 
General U. S. Grant, U. S. V., as headquarters. I was 
at once introduced to the general, who, I believed, had 
only a few days previous received his brigadier general's 
commission. 

Of the many who have written of him, made speeches 
about him, applauded him, and flattered him, few, very 
few are left who saw him, and watched him, and studied 
him, as I did. From the very first, he attracted me, 



Leaving Home 37 

and I felt very soon, and indeed at the time of the battle 
of Belmont, Mo., wrote home, that the man had come 
who would finish this war, should he have the chance. 

I first saw General Grant at the dinner table, when I 
was introduced to him by Dr. Simons, receiving from 
him a friendly nod. On the same evening I went into 
the bank. Behind the counter, the general and his as- 
sistant adjutant general, Jno. A. Rawlins, or Captain 
Rawlins, as he was then, were seated at a little round 
table. I fancy that I wanted to write a letter home, 
for I remember that the general very kindly asked me 
to sit down, and continued his work with Rawlins. I 
had then a good opportunity to observe him, and I did 
so very closely. He was then a very different looking 
man from the General Grant, or the President of after 
days. As I first saw him, he was a very short, small, 
rather spare man with full beard and moustache. His 
beard was a little long, very much longer than he after- 
wards wore it, unkempt and irregular, and of a sandy, 
tawny shade. His hair matched his beard, and at a 
first glance he seemed to be a very ordinary sort of 
a man, indeed one below the average in most respects. 
But as I sat and watched him then, and many an hour 
afterwards, I found that his face grew upon me. His 
eyes were gentle with a kind expression, and thoughtful. 
He did not as a rule, speak a great deal. At that time 
he seemed to be turning matters over in his mind, and 
to be very much occupied indeed with the work of the 
hour. He did nothing carelessly, but worked slowly, 
every now and then stopping and taking his pipe out of 
his mouth. 

But this reminds me, that I have not yet spoken of 
his pipe. The man in after days became so thoroughly 
identified with the cigar, that people could scarcely be- 



38 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

lieve that he was once an assiduous smoker of the pipe. 
Well, the pipe which he first used was a meerschaum with 
a curved stem eight or ten inches long, which allowed 
the pipe to hang down. He smoked steadily and slowly 
and evidently greatly enjoyed his tobacco. 

The day after my arrival at Cairo was Sunday, when 
I expected I should have comparative leisure, but I 
found myself busier than ever, Dr. Simons assuring me 
most earnestly, that "in wartime there were no Sun- 
days or holidays." Two days later I was ordered to 
St. Louis, with a cargo of sick soldiers, under the fol- 
lowing order, in General Grant's own handwriting. 

[SPECIAL ORDER] 

Headquarters Dist. S. E. Missouri, 

Cairo, Sept. i6, 1861. 
"In consequence of the lack of capacity of the hos- 
pitals at this Post, to hold the sick unfit to remain in 
camp, Brigadier Surgeon Brinton will proceed by boat 
this evening to St. Louis, in charge of such sick as may 
be put under his charge by the Medical Director of the 
post. On his arrival at St. Louis, Dr. Brinton will re- 
port to the Medical Director of the Department of the 
West, Dr. DeCamp. Upon being relieved of his sick, 
he will return to this Post without delay. A list of the 
sick, so disposed of, together with the company and 
regiment to which they belong, will be furnished to this 
office, in order that the General commanding may cause 
to be made out, and furnish to the proper Medical 
Officer in St. Louis, a descriptive role of them." 

By order of BRIG. GENL. GRANT, 

Commanding. 

JOHN A. RAWLINS, 

Capt. and A. A. Genl. 



Leaving Home 39 

I greatly enjoyed this trip up the Mississippi. I had 
never before been on a western river steamer, and then, 
too, I w^as in authority, official authority, for the first 
time in my life. It was all so new to me. The poor 
sick wretches under my command were ready to do what 
I ordered. The associations, for the time being, with 
the officers of the boat, the captain of the steamer con- 
sulting with me as to when and where we would stop 
and the pilot inviting me into his den, far up by the 
"texas" (that is the third deck of the boat), — all of this 
was so new, and so different from all to which I had 
been accustomed, that I felt myself quite rapidly de- 
veloping into a sort of superior creature. 

Having turned my sick over to the proper author- 
ities in St. Louis, I returned to Cairo and reported to 
Dr. Simons. 



CHAPTER III 

MOUND CITY HOSPITAL 

I did not stay in Cairo long. The number of sick in 
the district was rapidly increasing and it had become 
necessary that the hospital accommodations should be- 
come largely augmented. The town of Mound City, 
four years old and of speculative origin and growth, 
stood on the right bank of the Ohio river, about eight 
miles above Cairo. It was then a very little town, just 
on the river bank, a long row of three or four-story 
brick houses, or rather warehouses, built to accommo- 
date the anticipated business of the future city. As a 
speculation they had up to this time been a failure, and 
the buildings stood finished as to their walls, but un- 
finished as to their interiors. They were just in that 
state, from which they could readily be converted into a 
general hospital, three hundred feet long in front, by 
one hundred feet deep, capable of accommodating from 
eight hundred to one thousand patients comfortably. 
This building, the medical director had selected for the 
great general hospital of the district, and I was sent 
by him with full instructions to accomplish the work, 
and to take charge of the hospital when completed. 

Accordingly to Mound City I went at once, and put 
up at the hotel of the place, situated not far from the 
river bank. There was rather a stir in business at that 
time in the new little city, as four of the Mississippi 
ironclads, the "turtles," as they were afterwards chris- 

40 



Mound City Hospital 41 

tened, were being built here by Captain Eads, for the 
United States government. These were to be covered 
by iron slabs ten and a half inches thick, arranged like 
the roof of a house, and at such angle as would best 
turn or deflect any shot or shell striking them. 

They proved to be a success, and afterward played 
a prominent part in the operations undertaken to open 
the Mississippi River. Many of the chief workmen or 
master mechanics employed on their vessels boarded at 
the hotel to which I went. 

One of my first cares was to provide quarters for 
myself; and here I was so fortunate as to find the first 
floor of a little house or shop, which suited me exactly, 
two communicating rooms, capable of holding whatever 
I might choose to put in them. So with a little cot bed 
with bedding and mosquito netting from the hospital 
stores, with my big blue blanket for a carpet, a stove 
and a looking glass, a pitcher and a wash basin, I estab- 
lished myself at once in a most luxurious manner. My 
landlord was a little German apothecary from Hesse, 
who lived next door with his wife. They had not been 
very long in the country, and were very nice people. 
My breakfast and tea were furnished me by my hostess, 
and her omelets were unexceptionable, and the coffee well 
made. The whole establishment was quite cozy and eco- 
nomical. I paid four dollars a month for my room rent, 
and my provisioning was on an equally modest scale. 

It would be hard to understand the difficulties I had 
to overcome before I could get my hospital into a con- 
dition to receive even one or two hundred sick. How- 
ever, I stuck to my work, and eventually, before I was 
relieved from the charge of the hospital, I had succeeded 
in bringing it to a satisfactory state. A year or so 
later, after I had learned something about hospitals 



42 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

(I mean military ones), I am sure I could have accom- 
plished in a few hours the work that cost me so many- 
weary days of labor and nights of thought at Mound 
City. 

One of my chief troubles at this place was the diffi- 
culty, — and, I may almost say, the impossibility, of pro- 
curing the necessary men to do the work incident to 
the formation of a large hospital. In a city, or where 
the command was large, this difficulty would not have 
existed, and men could have been obtained. But the 
garrison at Mound City at this time was but a single 
regiment, and to this regiment many duties were as- 
signed. The presence of the iron gunboats, in process 
of building, was a tempting bait to the enemy, who prac- 
tically held the opposite bank of the river, and our 
men were constantly on the alert against surprise. At 
first we were very defenceless, but later, guns and a 
battery were sent up for our protection. Every day or 
two an alarm would be raised and we would be told 
that the enemy were in force on the opposite shore, and 
our scouting parties would be sent out to reconnoitre. 
During my stay, however, the excursions never resulted 
in any practical end. The "enemy" would usually turn 
out to be scouts of our own from camps below Cairo. 

Had I rightly appreciated my position at this time, 
I should have known that I was really well off. I had 
every authority I could wish for, I was comfortably 
situated, and nobody to interfere with me, and, as far 
as I knew, enjoyed the confidence of the Medical direc- 
tor. But the fact was, I was lonely, dreadfully lonely; 
the men by whom I was surrounded were not to my 
liking; I did not understand their rough, western, good- 
hearted ways and I longed at that time to be among 
those whom I called "gentlemen." I am afraid I did 



Mound City Hospital 43 

not try to make myself popular and I am sure that I 
received more consideration than I deserved. I am sure, 
too, that I fretted a great deal more than v^as at all 
necessary, about my hospital, though it was hardly to 
be wondered at, considering I had only half-sick men, 
or the prisoners from the guard house, to do my work. 
Scrubbing, sweeping, putting up beds, and making beds, 
and that sort of thing, was, to use the western formula, 
"women's work," and these gawky western men insisted 
upon it that they did not come into the army to do 
anything else but fight. It was astonishing to me how 
slowly these fellows did work, even with a guard behind 
them. In fact, they seemed only to work when my eye 
was upon them. Just as soon as my back was turned 
all exertion ceased. 

But if the men were bad, the women were worse. 
Just at this period the craze spread among our good 
people that the women of the country could make them- 
selves very useful by acting as nurses for the sick and 
wounded. So out they came, these patriotic women of 
the North. The Secretary of War, the generals com- 
manding departments, divisions or military posts, were 
besieged by them. By strained construction of certain 
paragraphs in the army regulations, and of acts of Con- 
gress, positions, paid positions, were devised for them. 
They besieged all officers and persons high in authority, 
and these, on the general military principle of sending a 
disagreeable person as far away as possible, sent the fair 
petitioners to as far away positions as they could. And 
the women went, and on the arrival of certain trains 
would stalk into the office of district commanders, and 
establish themselves solemnly against the walls, en- 
trenched behind their bags and parcels. They defied all 
military law. There they were, and there they would 



44 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

stay, until some accommodation might be found for 
them. In self-defence the adjutant general would send 
them to the medical director, and he, gallantly or not, 
as might be his nature, would forward them to the 
surgeon in charge of hospitals. To him at last these 
wretched females would come. "They did not wish 
much," not they, "simply a room, a bed, a looking glass, 
someone to get their meals and do little things for them," 
and they would nurse the "sick boys of our gallant Union 
Army." "Simply a room." Can you fancy half a dozen 
or a dozen' old hags, for that is what they were (our 
modern efficient trained nurses were unknown), sur- 
rounding a bewildered hospital surgeon, each one clam- 
orous for her little wants? And rooms so scarce and 
looking glasses so few ! And then, when you had done 
your best, and had often sacrificed the accommodations 
for the sick to their benefit, how little gratitude did one 
receive! Usually nothing but complaints, fault-finding 
as to yourself, and backbiting as to companions of their 
own sex. In short this female nurse business was a great 
trial to all the men concerned, and to me at Mound City 
soon became intolerable. 

I determined, therefore, to try to get rid of them 
from the Mound City hospital. In answer to my re- 
quest to the Catholic authorities of, I think. North 
and South Bend, Indiana, a number of sisters were sent 
down to act as nurses in the hospital. These sent were 
from a teaching and not from a nursing order, but in 
a short time they adapted themselves admirably to their 
new duties. I have forgotten the exact title of the order 
to which they belonged, — I think they were sisters of 
Notre Dame. I remember their black and white dresses, 
and I remember also, that when I asked the Mother, 
who accompanied them, what accommodation they re- 



Mound City Hospital 45 

quired, the answer was, "One room, Doctor," and there 
were in all, I think, fourteen or fifteen of them. So I 
procured good nurses for my sick and the whole tribe of 
sanitary "Mrs. Brundages" passed away. The sick pa- 
tients gained by the change, but for a few days 1 was 
the most abused man in that department, for the news- 
papers gave me no mercy. 

A great deal has been written about the bountiful 
supplies sent by the North to the army. Undoubtedly, 
this was true in the later part of the war, and in the 
early part of the war, as far as the army of the Po- 
tomac and the eastern armies generally were concerned. 
But we in the west fared badly at first (notice that I use 
the pronoun "we" in the plural for I was fast becoming 
a military man in my military sympathies) ; not perhaps 
while I was at Mound City, but later when I had the 
honor of being a member of the military family of one 
who was to become the great "Captain" of this war. 
We, in the west, then, I say, were badly armed, and not 
well supplied with the medical equipment, necessary for 
the active preparations we were just entering upon. But 
I will say more of this hereafter. 

I have spoken of the objection of the western man 
or soldier to doing certain kinds of work. Nevertheless, 
he possesses a certain degree of independence, and of 
marked individuality. An outcome of this is "lynch 
law," essential, perhaps, to the development of the west- 
ern land, but from the influence of which it is hard 
for the western man entirely to free himself, even when 
the necessity for it has passed away. Should any nec- 
essity for it arise, he turns to it again naturally. In 
illustration I may state that the Eighteenth Illinois Regi- 
ment (infantry) was stationed here. It had the reputa- 
tion of being a somewhat wild regiment. One evening 



46 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

a private in that regiment, in cold blood, shot a private 
of his own company, for some petty grudge. The regi- 
ment was on the point of moving, and was waiting for 
marching orders in a few hours. The man could not 
be tried by martial law, as Illinois was a loyal state. He 
could not be tried by a civil process, as the witnesses 
would move with their regiment. There was but one 
solution, and that was for his comrades to take the law 
into their own hands, in fact for the matter to be set- 
tled according to the stern and summary procedure of 
"lynch law." 

This was accordingly done, a jury of twelve was 
chosen from his own company, a judge was selected, 
and a court established. There was a counsel for the 
defence and a counsel for the prosecution. In the in- 
terests of justice, witnesses were heard. I think I was 
asked if the victim died from the effects of a gun shot 
wound. I know, that at the time, I could hardly be- 
lieve that this was all in real earnest. The prisoner was 
found guilty by the jury and was sentenced to be hanged 
on the following morning. As I was informed, a com- 
mission from the regiment waited on the Colonel, and re- 
quested him to go to Cairo early in the morning, to make 
purchases. He obligingly complied and left the camp 
betimes. As I was eating my breakfast on the morning 
following the so-called trial, the regiment in good order, 
and headed by the Lieutenant-Colonel, marched past to 
a strip of woods just beyond the borough limits. The 
prisoner was placed in a cart, a rope around his neck; 
the officiating executioner, who sat in the fork of the 
tree just above the doomed man's head, made all fast; 
the cart made off, the man was hanged and justice done. 
Someone suggested to the military officials in charge the 
advantages of a grave for the dead man. "A damned 



Mound City Hospital 47 

good idea," remarked the functionary, "Dig one under 
him as he hangs and drop him into it." This was done, 
the grave was dug, the body lowered and dropped into 
it. The hole was filled up, the executioner jumped down 
from his perch, the regiment formed in marching order, 
and then moved off to their daily duties. All parties 
felt that they had performed a virtuous act; and per- 
haps, as things go, they had. 

After a while the Colonel came and pretended much 
surprise. 

The matter was reported to General Halleck at St. 
Louis in a mild way, and there was some correspondence. 
It was rumored that it would go hard with the regi- 
ment, or at all events with the officers. But events 
were pressing, the regiment moved off, and no more 
was heard of the matter. After all, it was war-time, 
justice had been done, and the men themselves, the 
parties concerned, had acted. This was my only ex- 
perience during the war with "lynch law," a rough code, 
it is true, but in this case it produced a most salutary- 
effect. The regiment which had been a wild one, was 
sobered, and I doubt if anyone who witnessed that 
hanging ever forgot it. 

During my short stay at Mound City hospital, I first 
learned what it really was to be in authority. The re- 
sponsibility which to me, was always commensurate with 
the authority, weighed heavily upon me. I did my best 
to get for the patients in the hospitals all the comforts 
I could, not only from the government supplies but also 
with the aid societies, which at that time were springing 
up everywhere in the west and the east. For you must 
remember that this was a "people's war," and that those 
who remained at home worked hard to supply with 
comforts those who were in the fields. The men gave 



48 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

money, the women fitted up boxes containing every im- 
aginable and unimaginable convenience and comfort for 
"our boys," which they were only too glad to send on 
request. A good many of these "soldiers' boxes" reached 
me, and most useful they proved. It was a great thing 
to have these extra stores which one could dispense at 
discretion, and for which no special return or account 
had to be given. I do not know how it was in the 
east at the early period of the war but in the west, 
few delicacies or extra stores of hospital clothing or 
linen could be procured from the department of the 
medical purveyor. 

The supplies at this time sent to the western troops 
by the government were scanty, and it was not until 
after Dr. William A. Hammond became surgeon gen- 
eral, that much improvement took place in this respect. 
But I will speak of this hereafter, and shall now content 
myself by referring to the boxes which reached me from 
Philadelphia and from Newport, R. I. The former, fur- 
nished on my own request, contained all sorts of under- 
clothes for patients in hospital; wrappers and slippers 
and shirts and drawers for the convalescents. Then too 
there was clothing for the dead, and I ought to state that 
I had at first no chaplain to perform religious services, 
or to bury the dead and more than once I was obliged 
to perform these gloomy services myself. 

I referred just now to a box from Newport, R. I. 
This was sent by Mr. J. C. Van Renselaer. I remember 
that box particularly. It contained some "good" wine, 
and some "very good." This I was authorized by the 
donor to apply for my own personal benefit, and I can 
distinctly recall that "Old Constitution Madeira," figur- 
ing prominently on my New Year's dinner at Cairo on 
January ist, 1862. I may say that at this time I took 



Mound City Hospital 49 

very good care of myself and I am afraid that I was in 
some respects a "featherbed soldier." I know that I 
swallowed my quinine regularly to prevent the occur- 
rence of chills; and that I was very careful of my pre- 
cious self in every way. I do not know after all that 
I should be blamed, for that region was a most malarious 
one, although let me say that while I have often been 
near a malarious country, or place, or town, I have never 
yet been anywhere, where the inhabitants would openly 
and honestly admit that unhealthiness prevailed just 
there. Thus at Cairo, below the level of the waters of 
the two rivers, and at the time of which I am speaking 
unhealthy to the last degree, I never could find any 
Cairo-ite who would frankly acknowledge the fact. If 
questioned, the answer would always be, "Unhealthy, no 
indeed: how can this place be unhealthy with a strong 
breeze blowing all the time from the Ohio to the Mis- 
sissippi River, Now Mound City, seven miles above, is 
unhealthy, everyone knows that." Yet at Mound City, I 
would be told "There is no malaria here. If you want 
to find that, you must go to Cairo, where everyone has 
the chills. Here we are entirely protected by our belt 
of woods." Probably each one of these speakers car- 
ried quinine in bulk in his pocket, and took it daily, al- 
most without regard to definite doses. And so I have 
gone through the world chilled to my back bone, and yet 
never have been able to find any locality, city or town, 
where any loyal inhabitant would admit the presence of 
the dreaded influence. 

While at Mound City I felt an intolerable desire for 
home. I was homesick to the last degree. I had no 
society, no associates of my own rank, and although the 
contract assistant surgeons who reported to me, tried to 
help me, still I had not been long enough from home 



50 Personal Memoirs of John II. Brinton 

to have learned how to accustom myself to new com- 
panions, and how to be satisfied in the novel and chang- 
ing circumstances in which I found myself. So chafed 
was I at all my discomforts at this time that I wrote to 
my cousin, Dr. John McClellan of Philadelphia, and 
afterwards to either Arthur or George, I forget which, 
begging that I might be ordered to the Army of the 
Totomac. Fortunately for myself, my request was un- 
heeded by my cousin, General McClellan, who was at 
this time in command of the Army of the Potomac, and 
my letter renuiined unanswered, and I remained where 
I was. Had I only known it, I was very well off, and 
I should have felt very happy and comfortable. Mound 
City, barring its malaria, was really not a bad place to 
be in. It had even almost historic associations, for it 
had grown up close by the al)andoned sites of the old 
villages or towns of Trinity and Unity, which date back 
to the earliest settlements of the French. These little 
villages were situated on a sort of stream, or canal, 
which connected, t)nce upon a time, the Ohio and Mis- 
sissippi rivers. This stream was once known as the 
"Cash" River, a contraction for "Cache," and was nine 
or ten miles long; the name indicated, I suppose, that 
at sometime or other provisions or supplies had been 
l)uried (jr hidden near its banks. The channels of the 
stream had been obstructed and the towns had disap- 
peared, although vestiges of the stone foundations of 
the houses were still traceable, and one could see evi- 
dences of the clearings in the woods. Tradition, if the 
term be here admissible, referred the foundation of these 
deserted villages almost to the time of I'^ather Hennepin 
and the Sieur de la Salle, who passed down from Canada 
to the mouth of the Mississippi. 

Another curious feature of this place was the mound 



Mound City Hospital 51 

from which Ihc city took its name, ''Mound City." This 
mound or tumuhis was a circular pyrami(hd mound, 
about tliirly feet in height, situated not very far from 
the right bank of the Ohio river. It was undoubtedly of 
Indian construction, but when built, or exactly by whom, 
no one knew. T never heard that it had been pierced, 
or that any search had ever been made as to its con- 
tents. I suppose that it had once been intended as an 
Indian burial place. At the time 1 knew it its sides were 
green, and the top was surmounted by two or three 
trees, under which I liked to sit and smoke my pipe — 
thinking of home. 

One of the first things 1 learned at this station was 
how to answer a sentry's challenge, and how to give the 
countersign. The guard line ran between my hospital 
and my (|uarters, and it used to make me a little nervous 
at first to be stopped after work by the hoarse "Who 
goes there" of the sentry, and his imperious "TTalt," and 
then my very prompt answer, "A friend with the coun- 
tersign," and then again the "Advance, friend, and give 
the countersign." All this is simple enough on paper, 
but when the challenge was emphasized with the sharp 
click of the musket lock, there was a reality about it, 
which was unpleasantly startling. I can well remember 
how cautiously the "b'riend" (that is I myself) used to 
advance, dodging that bayonet and that confounded muz- 
zle, which seemed to glitter so brightly, no matter how 
dark the night, and which seemed to be pointing in 
every direction at the same moment, and how care f idly, 
how distinctly I would whisper "Banks," and then hear 
the sentry's answer, "Correct, pass on." Such was the 
formula every time I went to my hospital at night : 
Banks, Halt, Anderson, Grant, Concord, Wool, and the 
like were the favorite words. The countersign was sent 



52 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

to me every night just before dark, written on a paper 
done up in a mysterious, three cornered cocked hat of a 
note; and I have more than once in my after mihtary 
Hfe forgotten the word, and had difficulty in recalHng it. 

Here, too, I learned to salute ; and that, let me tell you, 
is no little accomplishment. 

My days were thus busily occupied, and in the evening 
I used to look over my accounts and write my letters, 
and amuse myself in killing mosquitoes, or in touching 
their bites with a solution of ammonia. Very powerful 
and bloodthirsty were these pests, grey-backed, huge 
and insatiate. Then, too, in the evenings I spent a 
good deal of time in studying up my "Army Regula- 
tions," which is one of the best things an officer can 
do, especially if he happens to have many executive or 
administrative duties to discharge. At the same time I 
also paid some attention to riding. It is true that I had 
not yet a horse of my own, but I was lucky enough to 
procure for my ambulance a good pair of horses from 
the quartermaster, which went equally as well in the 
saddle and in harness. 

By the 13th or 14th of October, I had some 250 or 
300 men in hospital, and at this time I was instructed 
to lose no time in raising the hospital capacity to 800 
or 1,000 beds. Besides the small regimental tent hos- 
pitals, the only other accommodation for the sick was 
the district hospital at Cairo, under the charge of Acting 
Assistant Surgeon Burke, a resident of the town, and the 
capacity of which was only eighty or a hundred. 

At this time, Cairo had become a center for the con- 
centration of troops for future contemplated operations; 
the forces in Cairo and its dependencies at Fort Holt on 
the Kentucky side of the Mississippi River, and Byrds 
Point on the Missouri side being about twenty regiments 



Mound City Hospital 53 

of infantry and one or two of cavalry, used for patrolling 
and scouting duty. All of the troops were much ex- 
posed. The camps were close to the river, the malarial 
influences were subtle and overwhelming, the hygienical 
conditions were bad, the men had not learned to take 
care of themselves, nor had their surgeons as yet had 
sufficient military experience to be able to cope with the 
difficulties of their new positions. The supply depart- 
ments were inefficient, the medical stores in the hands 
of the medical purveyor at Cairo were meager and not 
altogether suited to the necessitous condition of the com- 
mand. The quartermaster's supplies were also scanty, 
and even when plentiful in his hands, were grudgingly 
and unwillingly issued to the medical department. All 
complaints of the latter were met by the assurance that 
supplies could not be obtained from St. Louis, and it 
may be that a want of general military organization did 
at this time exist at this city, then the military head- 
quarters of the department. At a later period, their de- 
ficiencies were remedied, probably owing to the exami- 
nations and reports made by careful inspectors from the 
regular service, but in the earlier period of which I am 
now speaking, disorganization, rather than organization, 
prevailed. 

I suppose that all this medley of affairs was unavoid- 
able, and was in great part due to the newness of the 
war, and to its gigantic proportions. It took time to 
learn how to carry on so great a struggle and to fully 
appreciate the idea that it was all in dead earnest. 
There was great friction at first in the movements of 
the vast military machine; — its elements and component 
parts were freshly made, and often badly put together, 
and the men who managed it were inexperienced. The 
troops were raw, filled with home ideas, and I know 



54 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

that we, the officers of medical corps, had much to 
learn. For those who passed from civil professional life, 
into what I may describe as purely professional mili- 
tary life, such as the treatment and charge of sick and 
wounded soldiers, it was not so very hard. Some paper 
work undoubtedly there was, but it was not excessively 
onerous. Far different, however, was it with those of- 
ficers of the corps of brigade surgeons, who, standing 
high on the roll of their corps, found themselves, fresh 
from civil life, suddenly forced into positions demanding 
a high degree of executive and administrative ability. 
Not a few were early called upon to assume the respon- 
sible duties of medical directors of corps, armies and 
departments. In the old service, I mean the regular 
service, and in the natural order of events and by the 
force and operation of the law of seniority, the men 
who discharged these functions were men of advancing 
age, and who had had lifetime experience in the routine 
and paper duties of the department. In the exigencies 
of our national strife, from the magnitude and pressure 
of its demands, officers fresh from civil life were called 
upon at a moment's notice, and without previous train- 
ing, to discharge these high duties; how to do so prop- 
erly they had yet to learn, and that in the face of press- 
ing events. In this position I soon found myself, and 
it happened more from the kindness and good will of 
my great commander, rather than from any merit of 
my own, that I was enabled to carry myself without 
discredit. 



CHAPTER IV 

CAIRO, 1 86 1 

Towards the end of October, 1861, Dr. Simons, Med- 
ical Director of Southeastern Missouri (that is Cairo 
and its dependencies), reheved me from duty at Mound 
City General Hospital and placed me on duty in the 
medical director's office. This, as I discovered in a 
few days, was merely preparatory to my temporary 
appointment as Medical Director of the District, during 
the proposed absence of Surgeon Simons, who had ap- 
plied for leave to visit his home in Baltimore. On ar- 
riving at Cairo, I took up my quarters in the fourth or 
fifth story of Safford's Bank Building, at that time occu- 
pied as the headquarters of General Grant. The office 
of the medical director, was, if I remember rightly, in 
the third story front room. I fancy my presence was 
rather agreeable than otherwise to Dr. Simons for, as I 
have said before, he seemed to be dreadfully lonely and 
much in want of someone to talk with. He was a 
typical southerner, an old army officer of the Mexican 
War type. It seemed to me, however, that something 
must have happened in his previous life which had 
soured him, — but he was very kind to me, and I liked 
him. 

On Wednesday, the 23rd of October, I made a very 
pleasant trip on board a flag of truce steamer down 
the Mississippi, to Columbus, far in the enemy's coun- 

55 



56 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

try. The description of this trip I quote in part from 
my letter to my Mother, dated October 24th. 

"About noon on the 23rd of October, I started in a 
tiny steam tug under the command of Colonel N. Baford, 
who had been educated at West Point, but had been 
long in civil life. He was a fussy old gentleman, an 
old granny, but kind and amiable; he had with him two 
or three aides, and Dr. Simons and I went as inquisi- 
tive passengers in the expectation of bringing up some 
wounded men. We had on board a reporter for the 
New York Herald, a very busy man, who after a while 
got very drunk. The boat was the smallest steam boat 
I had ever seen, hardly large enough, in fact, to carry 
the party. We steamed down the river with a white 
sheet tied to our flagstaff, away down the river for 
twenty-six miles, until we came in sight of the high 
bluffs, on the left-hand side just above, and overtopping, 
the town of Columbus, Kentucky, the first town within 
the river limits of 'Secessia.' " 

The noble bluffs were covered with tents and swarmed 
with men, and the big guns pointed their ugly noses up 
the river in a terribly menacing manner. We were all 
expectation, and I, for one, could not help wondering 
what would happen next. However, our saucy little 
boat floated quietly down, gradually approaching the 
hostile works, the ragamuffins on the bank running along 
the river edge, when. Bang! a blank cartridge was fired 
from a 64-pounder. We whistled three times and then 
steamed on (which we ought not to have done), until 
we came right under their works. "Bang!" — again 
went the heavy gun, and we came to, and just in time; 
for as we were afterwards told, a shotted gun was 
trained on us to check this abuse of a flag of truce. A 
shot from such a gun at a 500-yard range would have 



Cairo, 1861 57 

been indeed no joke, especially, aimed as this one was, 
by Captain Blake, a graduate of West Point. "Had you 
not finally laid to when you did," this person told me 
himself the next day, "I should have sunk you." 

And so, tardily shutting off steam, we slowly drifted 
down until we reached a steamer, anchored by the slop- 
ing banks of the changing western river. Here our 
chief. Col. Baford, when challenged, asked for General 
Polk. "I am General Pillow" was the answer, "come on 
board," and so we did, and then ascending to the saloon 
of the steamer, we were all presented to the Warrior 
Priest, Bishop, and Major General, Polk. This gentle- 
man had been educated at West Point, but subsequently 
took orders, and had become bishop, I think, of Louisi- 
ana. At the outbreak of the war, he laid aside his 
lawn, and again assumed the shoulder straps. He had 
formerly, in 1827, been commissioned in the U. S. Army, 
as second lieutenant of artillery. He was killed in 1864 
during General Sherman's Atlanta march. 

General Polk, who was in full major-general's uni- 
form, received us kindly, and shook hands with us all. 
He was a rather tall, thin fellow, toothless, and bland 
to a degree. He talked a good deal, and his manner 
seemed to me to be somewhat flippant. He was not alto- 
gether priest or soldier, and the admixture of the manners 
of both was not happy. However, we were all received 
very cordially, and were invited into the cabin, where 
we took a drink of brandy and water all around, to 
the toast of "Washington and his principles," a senti- 
ment in which we could all join, no matter what was 
the color of the uniform. 

General Pillow was a very quiet, gentlemanly person, 
who said little. Our New York reporter was very busy; 
he kept close to the Secession generals, and picked up his 



58 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

items like a veritable newspaper bee. After a while, 
champagne was brought, and as there seemed to be 
some difficulty as to the ice, we offered some from the 
stores of our little tug, but they would not receive it. 
Laughingly, Dr. Simons and I promised to send it to 
them some day, when they sent us a flag of truce, a 
promise which we liberally kept a few days later. While 
the seniors were talking (of what I never had the faint- 
est idea), the two staffs fraternized, and we had a very 
merry time, and here it was that the Herald man was 
overcome by the enemy, and became quite hilarious. 

The Confederate surgeons were very polite to me. 
They took me on shore, and I passed with them through 
the streets to the hospitals. The latter were poorly 
appointed, but the inmates were apparently in good con- 
dition. The other members of our party were not al- 
lowed to land, that permission being accorded only to 
the medical officers. The people in the streets seemed 
squalid and unhealthy; they were ragged in appearance, 
and offensive in their manner and words. As we passed 
by they called us all manner of names, "Lincolnites," 
"Damned Yankees," "Abolitionists," and other such 
pet-names. Had we not been in the company of our 
Secession friends, we would indeed have fared badly. 

The uniforms of the Confederate officers were gen- 
erally of a shabby dirty gray, with a good deal of tinsel 
and cheap gold lace ornamentation, entirely too much. 
Their arms were poor. Several of the officers were 
West Pointers, and these talked freely on passing events. 
Of their ultimate success they seemed to be certain. 
They laughed at the idea of defeat or subjugation. 
From one of their officers, a Captain Blake, of Polk's 
staff, I learned a good many war items, of confederate 
coloring, interesting to me then, but now long forgotten. 



Cairo, 1861 59 

Another of their officers was a Captain Polk, of the 
same staff. He had been educated at West Point, and 
was a nice talkative, rather boastful young gentleman. 
We had a good deal of chat among ourselves, during 
which he said if he was hurt, he would rather be treated 
by Northern than by Southern surgeons, and he laugh- 
ingly added, "Should I ever be wounded, and let you 
know, will you bring me into your lines, and take care 
of me?" This I afterwards did. He was wounded at 
the Battle of Shiloh, and lay outside of our hnes, in a 
little Confederate house where he was attended by his 
wife and friends. He wrote to me, as I was on General 
Grant's staff at the time, and reminded me of my prom- 
ise. I went out under a flag of truce and brought the 
wounded man (as also two or three pats of fresh butter 
which had been set aside by Mrs. Polk), to our hos- 
pital transport, as I shall relate hereafter. 

After two or three hours' pleasant chat, we prepared 
to start for Cairo, taking with us a few of our wounded 
men. Where they had been hurt I do not know, — ^I sup- 
pose in the various skirmishes which were constantly 
occurring between the pickets and the observation parties 
of the two armies. 

I saw at this time quite an affecting sight, the parting 
of one of our wounded men from a wounded Confed- 
erate soldier. They had been wounded in the same en- 
counter ten days or two weeks before, had lain side by 
side in the same hospital, and had mutually cared for 
each other. They seemed loath to part, and their leave- 
taking was strange to see. 

All of the Secession wounded, who were able, came 
down to the wharf to see our wounded placed on the 
boat, and the good-byes were cordial and prolonged. 
We then steamed away to Cairo, not in our little tug, 



60 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

but in a boat of theirs, which carried us to our own 
lines, when their steamer returned to Columbus. And 
this was "Civil War," and this my first observation of it. 
The Confederate officers, whom I met, spoke freely of 
their commanders. General Joe Johnston, they ranked 
first; then a General Smith,* and Beauregard. General 
George B. McClellan on our side, they had a high opin- 
ion of; but they considered that he was not supported by 
good generals, and they felt confident of beating him 
badly. 

On my return to Cairo I remained on duty in the 
office of the Medical Director for two or three days, 
and on October 28th, the following order was issued. 

"Headquarters Dist. S. E. Mo., 

Cairo, Oct. 28, 1861. 
[special order] 

Surgeon James Simons, U. S. A. Medical Director, 
having received leave of absence, Surgeon John H. Brin- 
ton is appointed to act in his place. He will be obeyed 
and respected accordingly. 

BY ORDER OF BRIG. GEN'L. GRANT. 
(Signed) John A. Rawlins, A. A. G. 
To DR. JOHN H. BRINTON, 

Brigade Surgeon, U. S. A." 

And so, at Cairo, after two months' actual service, I 
found myself the Medical Director of a geographical 
military district of considerable extent, and occupied by 
many thousand troops. To superintend medically the 
welfare of so large a command, was no easy work, espe- 

* Probably Maj. Gen. Gustavus W. Smith who took command, for 
a day or so, of the Confederate Army before Richmond after the 
wounding of Maj. Gen. Jos. E. Johnston and before Robert E. Lee 
arrived to assume command. — E. T. S. 



Cairo, 1861 61 

daily when it is borne in mind that most of these men 
were fresh levies, all from civil life and many from 
agricultural districts. In fact, as far as their health was 
concerned, they might almost have been looked upon as 
children. The men from the country had often not 
passed through the ordinary diseases of child life, and 
no sooner were they brought together in camps, than 
measles and other children's diseases showed themselves, 
and spread rapidly. The malarial influences of the riv- 
ers too, produced a most depressing effect upon men 
brought from higher regions, and more healthy sur- 
roundings. Violent remittent, intermittent and low 
typhoid fevers invaded the camps, and many died. The 
general hygiene was bad, the company and regimental 
officers did not know how to care for their men, and 
the men themselves seemed to be perfectly helpless. 
This inability to take care of themselves seemed to me to 
be one of the strangest peculiarities of the volunteers 
at the beginning of the war. And here it must be re- 
membered that this time, the summer and early autumn 
of 1861, was the patriotic era of the national volun- 
teers. "Conscription" with which we were afterwards 
so familiar, had not yet been thought of, and bounties, 
tempting fat bounties, were unknown. Men volun- 
teered willingly for the war and in a patriotic spirit; 
young men of good families were in the ranks, men of 
education and attainments. In many instances, farmers 
eagerly became soldiers, and left their families, their 
farms, and their business without hesitation. These 
men, numbers of them, had been accustomed to think 
and act for themselves, and to take care of others; and 
yet just as soon as they entered the ranks and became 
soldiers, it seemed as if all individualism was lost; they 
ceased to think for themselves, and became incapable of 



62 Personal Memoirs of John H, Brinton 

self -protection. They had to be thought for, and cared 
for as children, — they were no longer the self-relying 
men they had been in civil life. And there was diffi- 
culty, too, in regard to their caretakers, for the men 
who suddenly found themselves officers and who were 
the natural guardians, as it were, of the rank and file, 
were utterly inexperienced, and in every way unaccus- 
tomed to take charge of others. The commissary of 
subsistence, whose duty it was to feed the troops, was, 
if he were a volunteer, ignorant of the details of his 
office. So also was the quartermaster, and yet on the 
efficiency of these officers much of the comfort of the 
private soldier depended. 

The medical officers, the regimental surgeon, and the 
assistant surgeon were in a somewhat different relation, 
for they brought to their new positions the professional 
attainments of civil life, and they had only to apply 
their every-day knowledge to the military surroundings. 
Some fresh details, it is true, they had to acquire, but 
with a little experience, and by careful study of the 
army regulations, supplemented by a reasonable share 
of common sense, they became fitted for their duties. 

The brigade surgeon had more to learn, for his higher 
grade placed him in a broader field. He most frequently 
found himself in charge of general hospitals in the 
larger cities, or of great divisions and corps hospitals 
with armies in the field. In many instances, however, 
he advanced at once to the grade of "medical director" 
it may be of a division or corps, or even of an army 
itself. In these instances he was on the staff of the 
general, who depended upon him in no slight degree for 
information as to the health of the command, and as to 
its general availability for active operations. His sug- 
gestions were usually listened to kindly and respectfully, 



Cairo, 1861 63 

and orders touching the hygiene of troops and camps 
were often issued at his instance. From my own ob- 
servation, I would say that the greater the general and 
the more liberal his views, the more was he disposed 
to listen to the words of his medical director. From 
all this you will understand how difficult of discharge 
were the duties of a medical director of a district or 
department or army, and how delicate, too, at times 
they were. It was his province to see to the health, 
as it were, of every man in the command; to so pro- 
vide that a bed should be ready for every sick or wounded 
soldier whenever and wherever it might be called for ; to 
see that medicines and medical supplies should be on 
hand at every depot, or with every column; and to an- 
ticipate all future demands by bringing fresh supplies 
from the central stores. Then too the medical director 
had to think of the medical officers over whom he was 
placed. He was a sort of bishop to his military flock; 
his duty was to help on the diffident, overworked, or 
lagging; to encourage by advice or instructions those 
who might be perplexed or weary; to restrain and hold 
in check the overzealous. 

It was oftentimes no easy thing to answer the pointed 
questions of perplexed regimental surgeons, who in the 
early days of the war in their ignorance of the "army 
regulations" regarded all rules as fetters and denounced 
all system as "red tape." These officers, yet civilians at 
heart, felt deeply for the sick and injured of their indi- 
vidual commands ; they naturally wished to procure in- 
stantly for them those things of which they stood in 
need and they disliked the formality of requisitions, 
which they deemed unnecessary. They were impatient 
of delay, and yet they did not know how to make haste ; 
they hurried to the office of the medical director for in- 



64 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

formation, and he alas! (I speak for myself) often 
knew little if any more than his questioners. To antici- 
pate a little the story of my own doings in my new office, 
I can only say, that "Men learn by teaching," and I 
learned the regulations, and how to do things by study- 
ing these same regulations and by trying to teach others. 

And then, too, a little later than this, I was taught a 
good lesson by Captain, now General, Hawkins, U. S. A., 
then in the subsistence department. "Doctor," he said 
to me one day, when I consulted him on some puzzling 
paragraph of the regulations, "Do this; when your 
servants come to you in ignorance and want to know 
what to do, tell them kindly if you do know. If you do 
not know, open the book of regulations for them, at the 
proper chapter, tell them to read it carefully for fifteen 
minutes in your office, and then they will understand it. 
Should they not do so, you will then explain it to them. 
And then run down to my office or General Grant's, 
state your trouble, and I am sure you will be helped out. 
You will not have to do so often." This advice I fol- 
lowed literally, and never did I in my ignorance apply 
in vain either to my good friend Hawkins, or to the 
great general, who seemed to me to be amused by my 
troubles, and at the same time to take pleasure in helping 
me out of them. I shall have much to say of him as I 
write, and I will not now anticipate, as I prefer to 
take up events in order, so that you can judge for your- 
selves how my opinions were formed, and my judgment 
crystallized. 

On the departure of Dr. Simons for the east, I found 
myself with a load on my shoulders; yet although the 
responsibility was great, at times almost crushingly so, 
I did not dislike it, but tried as well as I was able to be 
efficient, and somehow or other got along. 



Cairo, 18G1 65 

For a few days, I was busy enough, inspecting the 
regimental camps, examining their hospitals and assist- 
ing the regimental surgeons in obtaining their requisi- 
tions, by which I mean their supplies medical and other- 
wise. Everyone supposed that we would pass the winter 
in more or less quietude, in the neighborhood of Cairo; 
and of active operations we had little anticipation or 
knowledge. I see from my letters that late in October 
the staff whispered some rumor of a move in thirty or 
forty days, but whither we did not know. Flags of truce 
were occasionally passing to and fro on various pre- 
tences. Southern union men would be coming north, 
or men from the north with southern friends would be 
passing southwards, or women of all sorts of political 
proclivities would be sent over the lines, sometimes I 
daresay freighted with letters full of treason, or with 
percussion caps, or morphia and quinine, which were al- 
ready becoming scarce in "Dixie's Land." These flags 
of truce were often much abused, and I fancy at times 
did a good deal of harm. It was hard to vouch for the 
loyalty of those who availed themselves of them. I have 
a memorandum of a pretended union man, who sprang 
from a truce boat into the stream and swam for the 
southern shore, which he failed to reach, being drowned 
in the attempt. 

One of the earliest difficulties, and one of the most 
pressing with which I had to contend, was a scarcity of 
medical men, especially of young medical men, who 
possessed the slightest pretensions to decent medical at- 
tainments. The regimental officers were good enough 
of their kind, but more than these were wanted to sup- 
ply the depot hospitals, which were being established at 
various points. The men who supplied most of these 
subordinate medical positions were known as "contract 



66 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

physicians" or "doctors," to use the common phrase; — 
in the true mihtary parlance of the Surgeon General's 
office "acting assistant surgeons." These gentlemen held 
no commissions, but signed a contract with the medical 
director for the time and place being, which contract 
would be approved by the Surgeon General in Washing- 
ton. The pay was usually from eighty to one hundred 
dollars per month, and was charged to the medical appro- 
priation, expended under the orders of the Surgeon 
General. 

The regular paymaster of the United States Army 
had nothing to do with the contract physicians. The 
grade of medical men who at this time, early in the war, 
held these positions, was often low. Many ignorant 
physicians, or those who had been long out of practice, 
if indeed they ever had any, obtained contracts. Not 
infrequently it happened that charlatans and impostors 
succeeded in forcing themselves into these appointments, 
and the soldier, as would naturally be supposed, suffered 
in consequence. This condition of affairs obtained prob- 
ably to a greater extent in the western armies than 
elsewhere. One of my first efforts was to reform this 
abuse, as far as I could, by obtaining a better class of 
young doctors from the east, and from some of the 
larger cities, but the scarcity of good surgeons to do 
the every-day work in the more remote hospitals of this 
region was undoubtedly a great evil, which existed for 
some time after the war began in this portion of our 
country. 

I have already referred to General Grant's friendly 
treatment. I find in a letter to Dr. DaCosta, dated 
Nov. 20th, 1861, this allusion: 

"General Grant (an old regular) is very kind to me 
and helps me out of many a tight place, so also does 



4\ 



Cairo, 1861 67 

Captain Hawkins (regular). We are quite intimate. 
Grant is a plain, straightforward, peremptory and 
prompt man. If I ask for anything it is done at once, 
the great secret in all military matters." 

By the early part of the month of November, my 
new duties had become very pleasant to me, and I had 
become more than reconciled to my position. I felt 
that I was making headway, and I could see daylight 
ahead. My chief trouble at this time was the malarial 
influence of the country. Cairo enjoys, and I think most 
deservedly, the reputation of being thoroughly unhealthy, 
and this bad reputation had, up to this time of which 
I am speaking, always acted as hindrance to its develop- 
ment. One would suppose that the location of the town, 
on the tongue of land at the very confluence of the 
Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, would have been in itself 
sufficient to insure its rapid progress. But the place had 
lagged in its growth, despite the attempts of speculators 
to force it. It was here, I think, that many years ago, 
a sort of colony had been established, in which the Rev. 
Dr. Ely, a man of wealth, and the father-in-law of the 
late Dr. Samuel McClellan, the uncle of General Mc- 
Clellan, was largely interested. Money, a great deal of 
money, was spent here, but the immediate outcome was 
a disappointment to all concerned. The place could 
only grow by commerce, and this took time. Topograph- 
ically considered, as a stopping place of exchange, or 
inland port for the steamers of the two great rivers and 
their tributaries, Cairo was exceptionally favored. On 
the other hand, as a pestilential hole fraught with all 
malarial poisonous influences, the town unquestionably is 
preeminent. The levee, a high stone bank on the Ohio 
River side was a good one, and at the time I went to 
Cairo, a good many steamers were coming and going. 



68 Personal Memoirs of John H, Brinton 

On the top of the levee was the railroad track, which ran 
down to the St. Charles Hotel, near the end of the tongue 
of land. The levee, of course, was made of land, and 
nearly all of the houses and warehouses on it were of 
wood. Safford's Bank, then used as the headquarters 
building, was, I think, almost the only stone or brick 
structure. The levee and its bordering buildings, were 
infested with rats, many of them of a very large size, 
and at night they swarmed out of their holes. I have 
often known them to be crushed by the wheels of the 
railroad cars. 

Cairo at this time was not altogether a pleasant place, 
but yet I learned to like it, and I soon came to care very 
little about the rats, although I never could quite bring 
myself to think kindly of the swarms of merchants, ped- 
dlers, produce dealers, and the like, who infested the 
levee, and its neighborhood. Yet I must make an excep- 
tion, there was one fellow, hook-nosed and black-bearded, 
who sold everything and anything, and especially apples 
of such size, color and tartness, as I have never met since. 
These apples were my delight, for the craving for acid 
fruit was upon me. The truth was I was beginning to 
feel the influence of the climate and was becoming 
malarious and jaundiced. This was a wretched condition 
to fall into ; I did my best to fight it off, but to no use. I 
stuck to my office and did my routine work, but was 
scarcely able to go downstairs to my meals, or to see any- 
thing of General Grant's staff, of which I was a tem- 
porary member, although I had an idea that something jj 
was in the wind, but what, I knew not. ' 

At last, horribly nauseated, I was compelled to take to 
my bed. One of the ladies in the house, a Mrs. Turner, 
an Englishwoman, and the wife of a sort of an English 



Cairo, 1861 69 

doctor under contract, kindly saw to having some food 
sent to me, but which I could not eat. I felt wretched, 
and finally on the morning of November 6th, after hav- 
ing been in bed nearly two days, my nausea was so 
excessive that I put a large mustard plaster on the pit 
of my stomach, hoping for some relief. The plaster 
had just begun to burn comfortably and pleasantly, and 
I was trying to force down a few mouth fuls of soup, 
when Mrs. Turner knocked at the door, and then came 
hurriedly in to tell me that the General, with a good 
force, was on the eve of starting to attack the enemy, 
somewhere or other. "And you won't be able to go," 
she added. The importance and suddenness of her in- 
formation started me, and begging her to go out of the 
room, away went my mustard plaster, and I was out of 
bed in a minute, poultice on the floor, hunting for my 
clothes, with my head swimming, and myself in a gen- 
erally disordered condition. I managed to get into my 
uniform, and hurried downstairs to the General's office. 
He welcomed me warmly, saying that thinking I was 
too sick to go, he had ordered that I should not be dis- 
turbed, and at once directed that I should be provided 
with the best horse available. 

The charger with which I was supplied deserves a 
fuller mention. He was loaned to me by the quarter- 
master, and was a roan stallion, possessed of few virtues, 
and many vices, like Byron's corsair. Chief among the 
latter were his proneness to kick, and the delight he 
experienced in bending his neck around and biting the 
rein. He gave me much trouble early in the day, but 
later proved himself a faithful creature. Having pro- 
cured him, I made the best arrangements I could for 
the medical department, and then provided for myself; 



70 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

that is to say, I had my india-rubbers and blankets 
strapped to my saddle, and confided my instruments to 
the care of my clerk, who was to act as my orderly. 
Equipped and prepared for whatever event of war might 
happen, I waited our departure. 



CHAPTER V 

THE BATTLE OF BELMONT 

In the meantime, the troops were being embarked, 
chiefly infantry, of which there were five regiments, 
two companies of cavalry, and two guns, in all, a little 
over three thousand men. It took a good deal of time 
to get all the troops safely on board and the expedition 
did not start until afternoon. Under the convoy of a 
couple of gunboats, the "Tyler," and the "Lexington," 
commanded by Captains Walker and Stemble, U. S. N., 
it steamed down the Mississippi and anchored on the 
Kentucky shore about six miles above Columbus, I am 
sorry to say, however, that of what took place during 
this afternon and evening and night, I knew very little. 
I was quite ill, in fact, scarcely able to stand, and with 
the General's permission, I lay down in a berth until 
my services were necessary. Here I slept pretty well 
until it was morning, when all were aroused, as the 
expedition steamed across the river, and prepared to 
disembark the troops on the Missouri shore, just about 
three miles above Belmont. I should say here that I 
accompanied General Grant in the "headquarters' boat," 
and that as Medical Director of the District, I was the 
ranking surgeon of the command, and the Medical Di- 
rector in the field. 

Shortly after sunrise the disembarkation of the troops 
was completed, and the men were drawn up in lines at 
right angles to the river, extending in front of a corn- 

7^ 



72 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

jfield and out into the woods. Pickets were immediately 
thrown out and the whole force prepared to advance. 
It was while the disembarkation was being effected, that 
for the first time I saw a shot fired in earnest. It hap- 
pened thus : The bluffs above Columbus are very high 
on the Kentucky side, I cannot really say how high, but 
the batteries appeared to be high up in the air, and the 
guns were very large, some of them I afterwards learned 
being rifled columbiads of ten or eleven inches bore. 
They were distant from our transports about three miles, 
perhaps a little less. As I stood on the front of our 
boat, a transport, I saw a puff of smoke afar off, and 
in a few seconds a huge projectile flew past us, and far 
above our heads. It was not exactly in line, and was 
rather high, and so passed harmlessly by, falling far to 
our right. But the man who fired this shot soon im- 
proved his aim, for when the next puff showed itself, it 
seemed to give birth to a black line, at first well up above 
the Mississippi, but gradually sinking as it came nearer. 
It seemed to me to be making a bee-line for my eye, but 
fortunately changed its mind, and passing above our 
heads, and apparently between our smoke pipes, buried 
itself in the dirt of the Missouri bank of the river, I 
was immediately seized with a covetous desire to possess 
that shot, and thereupon offered two darkies on the boat 
half a dollar apiece if they would dig it out for me. 
They at once set to work, and as I went up the bank, 
I left them digging away industriously. The next day 
they presented me the shot, which was a round conical 
shell about eighteen inches long, which had been filled 
with lead, and fired as a solid shot, I paid the money 
and secured the prize, but found, when I had it, that 
it was an elephant on my hands. When I left Cairo 



The Battle of Belmont 73 

I left it, and what became of it I never knew. I daresay 
it is a household ornament somewhere at this moment. 

The shots of the enemy were replied to by our gun- 
boats, and I could see the shells from their big sixty- 
four-pounders bursting over the buttresses on the bluffs. 
On reaching the level, a sort of clearing in front of a 
cornfield, with wood roads, one leading towards Bel- 
mont, and one off to the right, I found our army, for 
I must so dignify the expeditionary force, forming in 
line of battle, ready to move onwards. It was a grand 
and new sight to me to see how real war was to be 
carried on. I am afraid that at first I thought more 
of that than of my own particular department, so I 
could not help riding up and down the line to take it 
all in. The early autumnal morning was delightful; 
the air fresh and invigorating, without being cold; and 
while I was still nauseated, it seemed to do me good. As 
I have already told you, I had been provided by the 
quartermaster with a vicious roan horse. I had not at 
first very much confidence in him, he had such an ugly 
look. Nor do I think that he had any great trust in 
me, since he showed a marked unwillingness to suffer 
me to mount him. Then too I was heavily encumbered 
with a surgeon's paraphernalia, but finally with the 
assistance of several soldiers, to wit, one to hold the beast 
by the head, one to keep him from turning around side- 
ways to bite, and one or two to boost me up, I succeeded 
in reaching the saddle, and when at last ensconced, felt 
confident of my position and certain that nothing short 
of an earthquake would unseat me. 

So I trotted fearlessly along the line of soldiers, when 
suddenly my horse gave an extraordinary sort of jump, 
forward one time, backward one time, then a sensation 
of vibratory unrest, and then da capo, one, two, three; 



74 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

and the more I said "Whoa, boy, be quiet," and tried 
to stroke the horse's neck, the more he essayed this con- 
founded buck jump. Then, too, the more I tried to look 
unconcerned, the more the men laughed. I felt quite 
sure I should not be thrown, I was too deeply entrenched 
in my saddle for that; but why couldn't, or why 
shouldn't that wretched horse stand still! Soon the 
mystery was solved. A kindly looking soldier stepped 
up to my side, and raising the scabbard of my sword, 
showed me that the end of it had dropped off, and the 
sharp point of the blade was pricking the rear hind 
leg of the animal at every step, which was more than 
horse flesh could stand. So I saw at once that I could 
not wear the sword that day, and took it off, and left it 
for the time, at a little one-story house on the edge of 
the woods, which I had occupied as a field hospital, 
and had placed in charge of my friend, Dr. Amos 
Witter, of an Iowa regiment, — the same who had spent 
a night with me at Mound City, 

The good doctor kindly took charge of my sword, but 
this was the last I saw of it, for later in the day, as our 
forces were returning to their boats, the enemy followed 
rapidly, and occupied this building before our wounded 
were fairly out of it. As I afterwards learned, my 
sword passed into the possession of a southern surgeon, 
and I hope he had a new end put on the scabbard. 

One of my first cares was to make the best arrange- 
ments I could to take care of the wounded (should there 
be any), when brought to the rear. The little hospital 
I have referred to was organized, and I then rode on in 
search of headquarters, which I knew would be well to 
the front. The command had plunged into the woods, 
advancing rapidly, and my only guide was the firing, 
which was becoming every moment more and mor^ 



The Battle of Belmont 75 

heavy, showing that the fight had begun in earnest. I 
was alone, but anxious to rejoin my General, so I spurred 
on my horse, sometimes keeping to a wood path, and at 
other times striking through a primitive forest, as the 
firing led me. The first wounded man I saw was an 
Irishman, who had been grazed in the abdomen by a 
bullet. He was lying on the ground, alone, and yelling 
with pain. The injury was insignificant, but his mental 
perturbation was great. When I told him the truth, he 
became calm, and gathering himself up, marched off for 
the transports. The next day I saw a fearful case; a 
shell had exploded behind, but close to, the back of a 
soldier. He was dying when I saw him and evidently 
in a dreadful condition, so I dismounted to render him 
what help I could. I have never seen a worse wound, 
before or since. The whole of the skin and muscles of 
the back from the nape of the neck to the thighs and on 
both sides of the spine had been torn away, as if the 
tissues had been scooped out by a clean-cutting curved 
instrument. The surfaces were raw and bleeding, and 
the sight was a horrible one, and one which I have never 
forgotten. In a moment or two he expired, and I re- 
mounted and rode on. 

In looking over my letters, I find one to Dr. DaCosta, 
dated November loth, 1861, from which I think it 
worth while to quote a few sentences: 

"At 6.30 on Thursday morning, we disembarked four 
miles above Columbus on the Missouri shore. Our 
force consisted of 2,800 men in four steamboats and 
two gunboats, with one hundred men each, and six 
sixty-four-pounders, in all 3,000 men with a number of 
brass guns, and about 250 cavalry." 

"I was mounted on a fast horse I had got from the 
Quartermaster, a kicking beast. We immediately threw 



76 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

out scouting parties, and as we commenced to do so, the 
first shot was fired from the bluff batteries at Columbus. 
This was replied to by our gunboat 64's, and I could 
see the shell bursting right over the enemy's pieces. 
Their shots passed over our gunboats, which now ran 
down below our point of disembarkation and threw their 
shell quite lively. I now pressed forward with the staff, 
a half mile. Here we found, in order of battle, ten 
pieces of artillery in the rear, two in the advance, and 
the infantry thrown out on the wings. As Chief Medi- 
cal Officer, I then directed the surgeons to take position 
on the margin of a wood, and at that moment, with 
heavy volleys of musketry, our whole line advanced, 
driving in skirmishes of the enemy. As I considered 
our rear unprotected, I ordered our hospital up nearer 
the main body, stationing them in a little log hut, our 
main hospital. I then seized all the water, placed it 
under guard, stationed my surgeons, ordered the as- 
sistant surgeons to their regiments, and advanced myself 
to the front. I shortly met men being carried to the 
rear ; the first man had his hand shot off, the second his 
arm blown away, and his whole back torn by a shell. As 
I advanced slowly to the front, with my orderly carry- 
ing my instruments, I arrested temporarily the hemor- 
rhage of the wounded I met, and ordered the ambulance 
wagons to hurry to the hospitals, and then to return to 
the front; all I am now speaking of took only ten min- 
utes or thereabouts, and shortly the heavy dull roar of 
artillery burst through the woods, and the fire of mus- 
ketry was continuous and rolling, as much so on both 
sides as at a review. We now reached a cornfield, and 
came in range of the batteries, and here a good many 
were killed, but our boys cheered and dashed on, driving 
the enemy before them, storming their guns and taking 



The Battle of Belmont 77 

them. Most of the mounted officers lost their horses 
from the rifle fire. Passing the cornfield I again pushed 
into the woods for a mile or more, dressing the wounded 
as I went, and kept moving slowly on. After a long 
time, we having by this time gone forward some two 
and a half or three miles, we came to an open plateau, 
immediately behind Belmont, and exactly opposite Co- 
lumbus. Here I had a fine view of the artillery practice. 
The gunners changed the position of their guns several 
times, and finally opened on the camp of the enemy at 
two or three hundred yards. 

"The enemy retreated under the bank of the river, 
and sought refuge under the fire of their guns from 
Columbus. We then burned all their tents, while a brisk 
fire of shell was kept up on us from the opposite bluff. 
Fortunately their range was too high, the shell passing 
through the tops of the trees, and making a terrific 
racket. Here I attended a number of wounded officers. 
In a little while our men formed into an irregular col- 
umn, and as they were doing so, I saw the pipes of 
two steamers going up the river. I thought to myself, 
'These cannot be our gunboats,' and so rode up to Gen- 
eral Grant and pointed them out to him. He would not 
at first credit these as the enemy's transports until I 
drew his attention to their course, as shown by the direc- 
tion of the motion of their pipes; he then expressed 
surprise, but immediately ordered our men into line. 
Very shortly after this, a force of the enemy appeared 
on our right, in the direction of the river, and somewhat 
later a considerable body, in regular order, advanced 
from the woods, into the opening on our left. Whether 
these troops were the runaways whom we had driven 
under the bank of the river, or the fresh reinforcements, 
or both, I never knew. 



78 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

"Our men quickly went into line of battle, but still 
in considerable confusion; some were tired out, and some 
did not care much about further fighting. Here the 
volunteer spirit showed itself; they had done their day's 
work, and wanted to go home." 

"I now mounted some wounded men on wagons, put 
an officer or two on an artillery caisson, and threw out 
a judicious suggestion, as I thought, to some officers, 
relative to hurrying their men into line, and then stopped 
to look on. The two lines stood bravely up, exchanged 
a few volleys, and our men pushed on towards our 
original landing place. Generals Grant and McClernand 
leading. We had a number of wounded whom we did 
not bring off. I should have told you that we had 
already taken some i6o prisoners, four guns, and about 
thirty horses. We brought off the horses and two guns, 
spiked two others, and left one caisson behind. Our 
whole command now pushed vigorously on, and I 
started with it, but was stopped by Major Butler." 

From what I have written, you will have learned that 
I followed our army as fast as I could, merely stopping 
to give the necessary directions on my way. On my 
arrival at the open Belmont plateau, the fighting was 
still going on, the enemy were retreating, and in a very 
short time their tents were in flames. I busied myself 
in gathering up our wounded, and in sending them to 
the rear hospital, directing the slightly injured to walk, 
and putting those who were more seriously injured into 
such wagons as we possessed. It was at this time that 
I joined General Grant, when the fire was pretty hot, 
and the big guns on the bluffs on the opposite side of 
the river were beginning to open. He was good enough 
to tell me that a doctor had no business there, and to get 
away. However, I had business there in caring for our 



The Battle of Belmont 79 

wounded, and I did what I could. Then when our 
exodus or retreat was ordered, I watched our people 
rallying in line, and I thought that even if they had 
scattered a little to pillage the enemy's camp, they were 
still a brave set of men. Some of them, however, were 
as I thought, foolish, notably one officer, evidently a 
German, who had two pieces of artillery in charge, 
which he held upon low ground, while the enemy were 
hurrying up in good force. I was standing on a little 
hill and saw the possible catastrophe, "Come up here," I 
called to him, "bring your guns up here." He did so in 
a twinkling, when I ordered him to open on the ap- 
proaching gray mass. This he did right manfully, and 
after a couple of rounds, the gray column passed to 
the right and out of sight. My major's shoulder straps 
seemed to inspire him with confidence, and he did what 
I told him, even to trotting off with his guns, when the 
rest of our men moved backward. 

About this time, I learned for the first time the sound 
of a bullet. A good many big trees were on the ground, 
buttonwood trees they were, which had either fallen or 
had been cut down, when the camp was formed. Their 
leaves, dried and withered, were yet on the boughs, and 
I could hear all around me the whiz of the bullets, and 
the dry pat as they cut through the dead leaves. At first 
I could not think what the noise was, but soon one fel- 
low came unpleasantly near my ear, and as I saw and 
heard the dry leaves rip and fly, and saw the holes which 
were left, I then knew what it all meant. Then, too, 
men were hit near me and I began to feel uncomfortable ; 
I felt as if I would like to ride away, but I knew it 
would never do to show fear, even if I was afraid, so I 
walked my horse over to where General Grant was, 
which drew upon me the kind of rebuke I have told you 



80 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

of. In my heart, I do not think I deserved it, for I am 
afraid I was afraid. 

Yet all the same I had my wits about me for I noted 5 
a good many curious events passing around me. I par- 
ticularly remember a Confederate soldier, who had been 
shot in the left arm, for he was supporting his elbow 
with his right hand. He was a tall fellow, in butternut 
brown trousers, and without a coat or hat. He was 
evidently suffering great pain, and the pain had produced 
a peculiar excited delirium. He noticed nothing which 
was transpiring around him, nor did he even seem to 
see our soldiers, but he kept steadily running up and 
down, forwards and backwards, by the side of a huge 
fallen tree, always turning exactly at the same point and 
retracing his steps to and fro, jumping over some bush 
at each tour. I watched him for some minutes with 
curiosity and was about to ride up to him, when my 
attention was diverted by the stream of our passing men, 
and I saw the necessity of following them, if I wished 
to avoid being taken prisoner, so I turned my horse's 
head and moved off with our men. 

The enemy were in front of us as we were then 
marching, facing towards our boats, and the firing was 
rather biisk, but we were pushing them, and they were 
giving way, allowing our men to force their passage. 
As I rode with them, a Southern officer dressed in a 
gray uniform, and lying on the ground in a fence angle 
of a clearing, called to me, asking me to dismount and 
help him, "if you are a gentleman." Urgent as the 
position of affairs was, I could not resist his appeal. I 
dismounted, knelt down by him, examined him, and 
found that he had been shot through the liver, and was 
rapidly sinking. He told me that his name was Butler, 
"Major Butler of Louisiana," that he had formerly 



The Battle of Belmont 81 

been Secretary of Legation at Berlin, and that he was 
a grandson of Mrs. Lewis Washington, or Washington 
Lewis, of Clarke County, Virginia. He said, too, that 
his mother had been a school friend of Mrs. George 
McClellan. He asked me how long he could live. I 
answered "but a very short time." He then said to me : 
"Please send a message to my father, — ^by the first flag 
of truce, — tell him how you found me, — and tell him, 
too, that I died as behooved me, at the head of my 
men." I did all I could for him, stimulating him from 
my flask. He was very grateful and said, "Oh, Doctor, 
I wish I had met you before this." He begged me to 
remain with him, and when I told him that our troops 
were on their way to their boats, he offered to protect 
me while he lived, if I would only stay. I assured him 
that his own people would find him, and that I must 
go. So I mounted and reluctantly left him on the 
ground. I afterwards learned that he was carried alive 
to Belmont, but died shortly after reaching the town. 
I was also informed from home that his mother had 
been one of the bridesmaids of my Aunt McClellan. 
In the course of a few weeks, I also received a letter 
from Ex-Governor Vroom of New Jersey, formerly our 
United States Minister to Prussia, at Berlin, stating that 
Major Butler had been his Secretary of Legation, and 
that he had been a very clever fellow. 

On leaving poor Butler, I rode after our retreating 
army, but no sooner had I reached the verge of the 
woods than I found myself confronted with quite a 
number of our gray-clad enemies. I came upon them 
suddenly, and they instantly covered me with their rifles. 
Fortunately for myself, I wore a civilian's overcoat of 
black cloth, and my uniform was, therefore, not very 
conspicuous. I immediately raised my hand in a depre- 



82 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

catory, and at the same time in an authoritative sort of 
a way, and they lowered their guns. In a moment, and 
almost instinctively, I wheeled my horse to the left, 
struck him hard with my spurs, and dashed through a 
dogwood thicket, and was out of their sight in half the 
time I have taken to write the last line. My horse 
carried me splendidly, and seemed to understand the 
exigencies of the situation. The men tried hard to fol- 
low me, but I was well mounted, and they were on foot, 
and the bushes thick, and so I escaped. 

I have spoken of my spurs; let me say here that those 
I wore in this action were the silver ones marked 
"George Brinton, September nth, 1779," and which 
descended direct to me from my great-grandfather, hav- 
ing been made from silver dollars. I wore them this 
day, so that I could say they had been used in battle, and 
I feel sure that they will be honorably worn hereafter by 
my descendants. 

Leaving my enemies behind me, I rode at random, not 
knowing my true course, and after a long circuit, I 
again struck one corner of the battle field, over which 
I rode alone. It was desolate enough now; there were 
no active combatants upon it, only the dead and 
wounded. I left it as soon as I could, and again sought 
for our men, or our gunboats, but somehow or other I 
rode in exactly the opposite or wrong direction, and 
emerged from the wood upon the river bank, along which 
ran a road between an open field and the river. Here, 
on the fence, I found two old darkies, one of whom was 
blind and the other lame. At first they seemed afraid 
of me, but when they saw I was a Union officer — in 
their own lingo, "one of Massa Linkum's sojers," their 
confidence returned. I told them how I came there and 
that I wanted to reach the gunboats above. I could 



The Battle of Belmont 83 

scarcely believe my ears when they told me that I was 
far below Columbus, and I even doubted my eyes when, 
looking up the river, I could see the whereabouts of the 
town. I took some five-dollar gold pieces out of my 
pocket, and offered one to each of them, if they would 
pilot me to the boats. This they were afraid to do, but 
they tried to do the next best thing, namely, to show 
me how to find my own way. The blind man seemed 
to be the intellectual partner, and he told his lame col- 
league to draw with his stick in the dust of the road a 
chart of the course I should follow. This he did, and 
then, thanking him heartily, I left. I must add here that 
they absolutely refused to accept the money from me, 
their reiterated reason for not doing so being "that I 
was Linkum's sojer." 

So again I struck into the woods, determined, if I 
could not reach our boats, to make the best of my way 
to Bird's Point opposite Cairo, twenty-five miles higher 
up. As I had neither guide nor compass, I must have 
steered in an uncertain course, I remember wondering 
at the time how Robinson Crusoe felt when he discovered 
his own footmarks. After a while I fell in with an- 
other wanderer, and we two went quietly together 
for a little way, when we differed as to our course and 
parted, he going his way and I mine. And here let 
me add as sequel this curious coincidence. More than a 
year and a half afterwards, when I was stationed at 
Washington, I was travelling in the train from Baltimore 
to Washington. In front of me sat a most dilapidated 
and gaunt man, without decent clothing. He mentioned 
to his neighbor that he was just from Andersonville 
(the dreaded Confederate prison camp in Georgia) 
where he had been taken after his capture. "And when 
were you captured?" he was asked. "On the seventh of 



84 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

November, 1861," he replied. Hearing that, I leaned 
forward and asked him if he had been captured at 
Belmont, Missouri. He took a long look at me, and then 
said, "Major, your way was right, after all — mine was 
wrong, for it led me to Andersonville, which I have 
just left." He was on his way to Washington to report 
his case. I was always sorry that I did not learn his 
name and follow him up. The second meeting was odd 
indeed, odder still that he was able to recognize me. 

To return to my ride, after parting company with the 
unbeliever, as before described, I wandered aimlessly 
around, trying to keep a general direction parallel to 
the Mississippi River. Suddenly, in the midst of a dense 
forest of primeval trees, I was startled by the loud re- 
port of a heavy gun, directly in front of me, and by 
the whiz and bursting of a shell in the tops of the trees 
above my head. It instantly flashed on my mind that 
there must be a force of the enemy just ahead of me, 
and that our gunboats were firing into them, with pos- 
sibly too great elevation of their guns, I checked my 
horse at once, and stopped to think what I had best do. 
If I advanced, I should inevitably fall into the hands 
of the enemy, if they were where I supposed them to 
be. If I rode backwards, I would run the risk of being 
killed by our own shells, which were falling behind me. 
I felt very uncomfortable, not so much at the idea of 
being hurt, as at the idea of being away from all assist- 
ance in case of injury. My horse, too, became demor- 
alized; he stopped and shook all over and there seemed 
to be none of the spirit of the morning in him. Then, 
to add to it all, a great shell struck the top of the tree 
under which we were standing, and cut all of the upper 
part of it squarely off, and down it fell, point foremost ; 
I remember it all most distinctly how that stem of the 



The Battle of Belmont 85 

tree looked as it struck the ground perpendicularly. Just 
then the direction of the fire seemed to shift, and the 
missiles seemed to strike more in front and to my left. 
So I rode away, and after a while struck the bed of an 
unfinished railroad. Along this I rode for some time, 
and then, hearing voices, I reined in my horse, and 
waited to see who might be coming. Soon I saw 
through the trees (here of small size) a body of horse, 
in our uniform. I joined them, and found that I had 
fallen in with Dollin's cavalry, an independent company 
of cavalry attached to our command. They seemed to 
be in rather a bewildered condition, and their leader, 
noticing the major's gold leaf on my shoulder straps, 
consulted with me, and indeed asked me to tell him what 
to do. I do not pretend to be much of a soldier, but I 
have a dread of being surprised or taken at a disadvan- 
tage, and I observed that just at that moment we were 
in a most dangerous position, and that if attacked in any 
force, we might all be destroyed or captured. We were 
riding, all huddled together, with an impassable slough 
of mud and water close on our right. I suggested that 
we should move more to the left, throw our scouts out 
on the left side and in advance, and march rapidly and 
quietly. This was done, and after advancing in this 
order for some distance, we were able to cross the 
swamp, and bearing to the right, we came on a sort of 
road, and soon reached a poor log house. The occu- 
pants pretended to know nothing as to the position of 
the river, or the whereabouts of our boats and troops. 
We were about to take a guide by force, under the per- 
suasion of a cocked pistol, when one of the women 
recognized me. She was the mistress of the little cabin 
or farm house I had occupied as a hospital early in the 
morning. In doing so, I had given particular orders 



86 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

that her property should be respected, and these had 
been obeyed. Bitter rebel as she was, she was grateful 
for what I had done for her, and seeing me, she volun- 
teered to send her young son along to show me the way 
to a road, whence I could reach the point of the morn- 
ing's disembarkation. The boy, after having been 
warned as to the probable results of treachery, trotted 
along quietly enough by my side until we reached the 
turn of the road near the river, where I left my cavalry 
friends, and riding on, soon saw one of our gunboats 
looking for stragglers. I hailed the boat, and was told 
to ride on further, where I could find a transport moored 
to the shore. This I did and reached the boat about 
half a mile higher up the river, and after some little 
trouble, succeeded in leading my horse down the steep 
bank and crossing the gangplank, thus placing both him 
and myself in safety. By the time I embarked, it was 
dark, and I was quite worn out. I had been in the 
saddle almost since daybreak, without food, and what 
was worse, without water, save one or two horrid mouth- 
fuls I was forced to take from the half stagnant water 
of the slough or swamp, or back water, whatever it 
might have been called. 



CHAPTER VI 

INCIDENTS OF THE FIGHT 

During this day's long ride, several little matters fell 
under my observation, which may perhaps be of interest. 

In the first place, I might have been shot by a cow- 
ardly hound of our command. As I was riding forward 
in the morning toward Belmont, I came across a fellow, 
unhurt and fully armed, who had evidently skulked away 
from his company, and was on his way to the rear, or 
to some place of safety. I came on him suddenly, saw 
what he was after, and demanded his name, company, 
regiment. Taken unawares and off his guard, he an- 
swered me, and I have no doubt, truly. I added, "you 
are a coward and are skulking, and I will report you," 
and then I rode on. In a second or two I had an instinc- 
tive feeling that the fellow might shoot me. Looking 
back over my shoulder, I saw him deliberately aiming at 
me, at a distance of scarcely ten yards. I turned my 
horse to one side and drew my pistol. My movements 
disconcerted the man, and he slipped away behind a 
fallen tree. I was too busy to think of him, and rode 
on, but I always felt that my escape was a narrow one. 

I was much struck this day with the behavior of 
animals when terrified. Thus, my horse, when he and 
I were exposed to the terrific shell fire of the gunboats, 
was thoroughly, may I say, "unhorsed." He was no 
longer the kicking, fractious beast of the morning. He 
was entirely subdued, and trembled and shook, and 

87 



88 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

seemed scarcely able to stand. Then, too, he appeared 
to recognize me as his master, and when 1 dismounted 
to see the wounded he showed no disposition to wan- 
der or leave me, but stood with his nose close to me. It 
was scarcely necessary to hold his bridle, he was so 
quiet and companionable. 

Again, when I rode over the field alone, several mules 
followed me closely, — they could not get too close to 
me. One fellow in particular, without a bridle, a big 
white creature, with extraordinary ears, stuck to my 
side, as if we had been friends all our lives. I suppose 
he was what was then called a "secesh mule" captured or 
set free at the destruction of the enemy's camp. I 
mounted more than one wounded man on him, and he 
did not fall behind. It was upon him that a poor lad, 
not more than sixteen or seventeen, who had been shot 
through the lung, died. I reported his case in my paper 
on "The Instantaneous Rigor of Sudden or Violent 
Death," in the American Journal of the Medical Sci- 
ences. In this lad's case, the rigor was so quick and 
marked that I had much difficulty in removing his body 
from the animal, so tightly were the legs clasped around 
the sides of the mule. This string of mules accompanied 
me until I reached the river bank. 

One other incident relative to the behavior, not of 
animals, but of men, remains in my mind. While the 
lower deck of one of our transports was filled with men, 
a flock of duck or geese settled in the river, not very 
far from the boat. At the same time a small output of 
the enemy appeared on the bank, and a desultory fire 
was opened on our men in the boat. This was returned 
from one side of the boat, while the men on the opposite 
side practiced at long range on the birds. This, I think, 



Incidents of the Fight 89 

occurred at or before the disembarkation in the morn- 
ing. 

The shelling of the woods, which occurred as I ap- 
proached the river, took place, as I learned afterwards, 
through a force of the enemy in the cornfield and woods 
incautiously exposing themselves to the fire of our gun- 
boats. The latter was very efifective and caused great 
loss to the enemy. Some of these shells flying high 
passed over my head, and caused me to infer the pres- 
ence of an enemy in front of me. 

After reaching the transport, and getting my horse 
safely on board, I went up to the Captain's office, in 
the "Texas," to see the Captain. He was just uncork- 
ing a bottle of "champagne." I have tasted many a glass 
of wine since, but never one which tasted better than 
did the fictitious champagne of that evening. 

In the cabin of the steamer, I found about sixty or 
seventy wounded men, and one or two surgeons. I 
joined them and had plenty to do as we steamed up the 
river. On our arrival at Cairo, the wounded were im- 
mediately sent to the post hospital, under the care of 
Dr. Burke, and to the regimental hospitals, which had 
been organized in the town. 

We reached Cairo about nine or ten o'clock in the 
evening, and I immediately hurried to the telegraph 
office to telegraph my safety tO' my mother. The oper- 
ator expressed much surprise at seeing me, and said, 
"Doctor, you have just come in time, I was just about 
to send this paragraph east," and he read me this slip: 
"Surgeon Brinton, the Medical Director, was killed; he 
was seen to drop from his horse under the enemy's 
fire." This looked very odd to me, and while I felt 
sure it could not be true, yet to prevent mistakes, I did 
telegraph my safety, and this I learned afterwards was 



90 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

one of the early intimations in Philadelphia that a battle 
had been fought. The night following the battle was 
for me a busy one, but there was plenty of help, and 
the wounded were soon comfortably housed in the hos- 
pitals I have referred to. 

On summing up my experience in my first battle, I 
see from my letters home that at that time I felt I had 
gotten well through the day's incidents. I had done my 
professional duty as well as a new man could, and then, 
having kept close to headquarters, I had acquired some 
little credit as a valiant doctor, which, by the way, I do 
not think was particularly deserved, for after all, in a 
battle with long-range weapons, the rear is almost as 
dangerous as the front. I certainly was very fortunate 
in escaping capture, wandering as I did at random, and 
with no sense of the points of the compass, or of the 
direction of our forces. I know that I determined to 
procure for myself at once a compass, and that I wrote 
home asking that a good serviceable instrument be sent 
me. 

For the few days following the battle, I was kept 
very busy, not only by the administrative duties of the 
medical director's office, but also by the professional 
work I did. The surgeons under me were willing, but 
as surgeons, they were inexperienced, and I had to do 
many operations, and also teach them how to do them. 

Here let me relate a little anecdote of one of my 
surgeons, a member of one of the Illinois regiments. 
He was a very earnest man, but at that time rather 
deficient in professional, or at all events, surgical train- 
ing. In his hospital lay a patient whose leg, seriously in- 
jured, demanded amputation. The surgeon came to my 
office one afternoon, confessing that he had never done, 
and had never seen an amputation, and moreover had 



I 



Incidents of the Fight 91 

no idea how one should be done, and begged me, at the 
appointed time, to perform the operation for him. I 
explained to him that this would never do; his position 
in the regiment demanded that he himself should remove 
the limb. And then I explained to him how the ampu- 
tation should be done, and made him go through the 
motions, promising him that I would help him through 
when the time came. On the following morning I did 
so, and he operated very well, and to the satisfaction 
of the lookers on. Somehow or other this amputation 
established his reputation. He at once took rank as an 
experienced surgeon; nor, better still, did his newborn 
confidence desert him, for at the battle before Fort Don- 
elson, some months afterwards, I was informed by one 
of the hospital stewards that a great surgeon was busy 
operating in one of the field hospitals in the rear of 
our lines. I at once rode over to see who this person 
was, and found the operator busy in the second story of 
a little country house, to which many wounded men 
were being carried. 

I found bloodstained footmarks on the crooked stairs, 
and in the second-story room stood my friend of Cairo 
memory; amputated arms and legs seemed almost to lit- 
ter the floor; beneath the operating table was a pool 
of blood, the operator was smeared with it and the 
surroundings were ghastly beyond all limits of surgical 
propriety. "Ah, Doctor," said the new-fledged surgeon, 
"I am getting on, just look at these," pointing to his 
trophies on the floor with a right royal gesture. And 
after all he seemed to have done good work, and from 
that time he was a recognized surgical authority among 
his confreres. 

At this point I must record the sad loss of my cher- 
ished surgical instruments. On entering the service, I 



92 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

had not drawn from the Medical Purveyor any of the 
surgical instruments issued by the Government. They 
were, in fact, good enough, and a fair selection, but I 
preferred to use my own, and I, therefore, carried with 
me a select assortment. Many of these I had brought 
with me from Paris; others which had formerly be- 
longed to the late Professor Miitter, my old preceptor, 
had been given to me after his death, by Dr. S. Weir 
Mitchell, who had either inherited them, or received 
them as a gift from Dr. Miitter's widow. All of my 
stock of surgical tools had been wrapped together, and 
in the hurry of leaving, not having time to select, I took 
with me the package containing all, onto the field at 
Belmont. I unstrapped the package from my saddle, 
and gave it to my orderly, a lad of eighteen or twenty, 
to carry for me. But alas ! under the artillery fire from 
the bluffs, he became greatly demoralized, and in utter 
fright ran away, and I remember distinctly seeing him 
"scudding" off holding the heavy package on his head 
with his two hands. It was a ludicrous sight, to watch 
him disappear from the open into the woods, and with 
him my precious instruments, none of which I ever saw 
again. Both were captured and the instruments fell 
into the possession of a Mississippi surgeon, who, as I 
learned, shortly went to his home, taking my instruments 
with him. I made a touching complaint to General 
Grant, who on a flag of truce later attempted to get my 
possessions back, but obtained nothing but the above 
history of their whereabouts. However, the General 
was good enough to offer to barter in my behalf, — thus : 
It seems we had captured a cream-colored pony, which 
had been given by a lady to a Confederate officer. He 
was a beauty, with long silver tail and mane, and his 
former possessor was as anxious to recover him as I 



Incidents of the Fight 93 

was to obtain my instruments. An exchange was pro- 
posed, but it never was consummated. My instruments 
are, I suppose, still in the South, and the pony, too 
conspicuously dangerous to be ridden in action, was sold 
for a trifle and sent to Chicago. As to this charger, I 
remember that we were told, that his former "secesh" 
owner and his friends had threatened that they would 
shoot, if they could, any Northerner who might ride 
him. He was said to be of Arabian stock. 

I append here the reports which I made of the Battle 
of Belmont, to General Grant: 

"Medical Director's Ofiice, 

Cairo, Missouri, Nov. 20, 1861. 

General : — 

I have the honor to submit the following list of 
soldiers, wounded in the recent fight at Belmont, Mo. 
The total number of injured as reported to this office 
amounts to 274, Of these as will be seen by reference 
to the subjoined statement, 10 have already died. 

It should, however, be stated that from one Regiment, 
viz., the 7th Iowa, no report has as yet been received. 
The number of casualties to this corps have been more 
in number than in any other regiment, and when the re- 
port of the Surgeon, Dr. Witter, shall have been received, 
the list, as already submitted, will probably be augmented 
by some 30 or 35 names. The reason for the delay in 
regard to the report of the 7th Iowa arises from the 
fact that immediately after the 7th inst. the regiment was 
ordered to Benton Barracks, one portion of the wounded 
being left behind at this place, and in Mound City, whilst 
another portion were taken northward with the Regi- 
ment. 

Many of the wounded at present in our Department 
and General Hospital present cases of unfavorable na- 
ture, owing to the fact that they fell into the hands of 



94 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

the enemy, and were left exposed on the field of battle 
for at least eighteen or twenty-four hours. Had the 
Medical Department of your command been provided 
with the proper ambulance train, this disastrous and 
mortifying result might have been readily avoided. The 
only means of transportation for the wounded which I 
had were two or three army wagons, which I obtained 
from the Quartermaster's Department, and these being 
destitute of springs, and the country over which they 
passed being woody and rough, the wounded suffered 
much unnecessary pain. 

I would state that Surgeon Gordon of the — 30th 111. 
and Asst. Wm. Whitnell of the 31st 111. fell into the 
hands of the enemy and are still prisoners. It affords 
me pleasure to testify to the efficiency of Brigade Sur- 
geon Stearns and the corps of surgeons generally, and 
I would especially instance the conduct of the Asst. 
Surgeon Kendall, of the Cavalry, who freely exposed 
himself under fire in his efforts to rescue and aid our 
wounded. 

Very respy. yr. Obt. Servt. 

J. H. BRINTON, 
Brigade Surgeon and Act. Medical Director. 

Brigadier General Grant, 

Commanding." 



! 



CHAPTER VII. 

CAPE GIRARDEAU, MO. — CAIRO, ILL. 

On the 14th of November, 1861, I received the fol- 
lowing order in the handwriting of General Grant: 

"Head. Qts. S. E. Mo. 

Cairo, Nov. 14, 1861. 
SPECIAL ORDER 

NO. — 

Surgeon J. Brinton, Medical Director, will proceed as 
soon as possible to Cape Girardeau, Mo. to inspect the 
hospitals, and to make such changes and orders as he 
may deem necessary for the benefit of the sick. 

(Signed) U. S. GRANT, 
To Brig. Gen. Com. 

Surgeon J. Brinton, 
Medical Director, 
Cairo, 111." 

Accordingly, on the 15th of November, I came up 
to the town of Cape Girardeau, sixty miles above Cairo, 
on the right bank of the Mississippi River, and in Mis- 
souri. My business was to inspect the hospital, for 
there was a regiment or so stationed there. Of this, 
I remember little, but the town itself made a strong im- 
pression on my mind. It was not an American town, 
but a French one, a remainder from the French occupa- 
tion of this region, and consisted almost wholly of one 
long narrow street leading upwards from the river, with 

95 



96 Personal Memoirs of John H, Brinton 

high flag stones for crossings, and deep ruts for wagons, 
almost as in the days of Pompeii. The houses were low, 
mean looking, and with projecting roofs or eaves. 
French was the language of the town; and the air of 
quietness and repose, which prevailed, almost banished 
the idea of civil contest. I stayed at an inn, which 
strongly reminded me of a little aube'rge at a miniature 
town some twenty miles distant from Marseilles, where 
I was once landed, and where the whole population 
came out to assist the customs officers in the inspection 
of my very modest valise. 

On the 17th of November, I found myself at Cairo, 
and on the i8th or 19th, started with General Grant and 
his staff, and a good force of men, on an expedition after 
General "J^^" Thompson, who was raiding somewhere 
or other on the Missouri side of the Mississippi River. 
Our expedition was well planned, two commands hav- 
ing been directed to converge to meet our own at a 
given point, where and when it was supposed that "]ef[" 
would be cut off and caught. But he was too wary a 
swamp fox to be thus trapped. At the appointed spot, 
we found only a few released Union prisoners with a 
note from Thompson, addressed to General Grant, stat- 
ing that as he had released more Union prisoners than 
his opponent, the latter, meaning General Grant, was 
"still so many men in his debt." I remember that Gen- 
eral Grant was greatly amused at this incident, and 
showed the note to his staff, with full appreciation of 
the joke. So we returned to Cairo without our prisoner, 
and "Jeff" went off through the swamps. 

At this time, at Cairo, we were much annoyed by 
newspaper correspondents, who were ever on the look- 
out for news, and who did not hesitate to thrust them- 
selves forward on any pretext. A flag of truce was for 



Cape Girardeau, Mo. — Cairo, III. 97 

them a great opportunity, and as "flags" not infrequently 
passed between Cairo and the enemy, every effort was 
made by these gentry to accompany them. On one oc- 
casion, three of them smuggled themselves on a truce 
boat. They got entrance by carrying on their heads 
cots, — as the boat was about to bring up wounded. 
Once on board, they stowed themselves away, but were 
soon detected by the Colonel in command. He imme- 
diately locked them up in the wheelhouse and gave them 
no food for twelve hours, and one of them by accident, 
or possibly by intention, was sent to the guardhouse on 
the return of the "flag" to Cairo. Here he stayed for 
a week and only obtained his liberty by writing to 
General Grant. The victims in this matter kept very 
quiet, but the joke was too good to be kept, and the 
effect upon obtrusive correspondents was useful and last- 
ing. 

During these months I suffered a good deal from 
boils, in fact, physically, I was wretched and could 
scarcely move. At one time, I had eleven of these 
wretched sores in full blast. I was then living in a 
suite of rooms in a little shanty near the St. Charles 
Hotel, but below the levee. The building was a sort 
of annex to a restaurant, and I had the floor to myself. 
The restaurant was kept I think, by a German, who 
furnished a fare much above the western diet. My 
Thanksgiving dinner was a great success, turkey, dressed 
celery and mince pie. The latter I think was made of 
dried apples, and the meaty part had a peculiar flavor, 
suggestive of levee rats and Chinese ideas. 

By the end of November, a good many troops had 
been collected at Cairo, and of course, with them, came 
a number of surgeons; almost all were western men, 
from Illinois, Iowa, Michigan and Missouri chiefly. 



98 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Many of these were rough, but I think that at first I 
underrated them. Their hearts were good, and they were 
professionally zealous. In order to bring them together 
and for our mutual improvement, we organized the 
"Army Medical and Surgical Society of Cairo," which 
met once a week at the Medical Purveyor's business 
quarters. A good deal of interest was shown by the 
members, and our discussions were prolonged, and I now 
think that they must have been useful. The society 
flourished and continued its existence long after I left 
Cairo. 

The town of Cairo was essentially a frontier town 
on the very borders of "Secessia." The proximity of 
the enemy, and the sending of occasional flags of truce, 
thus afforded good opportunities for the transmission of 
private letters to friends within the lines of the rebellion. 
In this way loyal families could communicate with their 
relatives in the south. All such letters passed through 
the military headquarters, and baskets full of such let- 
ters would accumulate, awaiting transmission. When 
the privilege of sending a letter was granted, it was 
understood that it would not be abused, and that the 
communication should not contain any military infor- 
mation or treasonable news. Letters were sent open, 
and were liable to inspection at headquarters. This duty 
General Grant occasionally imposed" on the different 
members of the staff, and very tiresome and disagreeable 
it was to read other people's letters. 

A prominent Southern physician was at that time liv- 
ing in Philadelphia. He was anxious to write to his 
family, and a mutual personal friend wrote me, begging 
that I would have his letter passed through without the 
usual examination of contents; assuring me on the 
writer's word of honor that nothing improper would be 



Cape Girardeau, Mo, — Cairo, III. 99 

conveyed. On my mentioning the request to General 
Grant, he at once assented, but added that for form's 
sake, he would ask me to open the letter and assume 
all responsibility in the matter, and he would consider 
the enclosure as examined, and order it passed on. I 
did so, and at once saw that the sheet was full of trea- 
sonable military information as to the Northern forces, 
their disposition, strength and commanders. Without 
a word, I cast the dishonorable note into the fire on the 
hearth. The General smiled, and simply said, "I ex- 
pected as much; I am not surprised." 

I mention this to show how little honor prevailed at 
this time in places where one had a right to expect good 
faith. 

On the 29th of November, Dr. John K. Kane ar- 
rived from Philadelphia. I had previously written, 
telling him that if he wished to see something of military 
surgery, I would make a contract with him. This I 
did immediately on his arrival, and assigned him to 
duty as a "resident surgeon" at the depot hospital, which 
was then under the charge of an Irishman named Dr. 
Burke, an eccentric, jealous, assuming man. He soon, 
I think, took to Dr. Kane, and they got along very 
nicely, although Kane's daily ablutions in an india-rubber 
bath tub were at first regarded as a very undignified pro- 
ceeding; but as he was the brother of the distinguished 
arctic explorer, his new comrades concluded to look 
upon his daily wash as a purely individual peculiarity, 
which in a stranger should be leniently considered. 

All of which reminds me of another vanity, this time 
my own. I was the happy possessor of a gray dressing 
gown, lined and trimmed with scarlet flannel, and which 
I had made for me in Vienna in 1852. When I was 
stationed at Cairo I had it expressed to me, and during 






100 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 



the time I was living at Safford's Bank, our head- 
quarters, General Grant saw the gorgeous garment and 
determined to have one like it. So it was borrowed by 
Mrs. Grant, taken to Chicago and served as a model for 
a similar gown for the General. 

In the early part of December Dr. Simons returned 
to Cairo, and resumed his duties as Medical Director of 
the District. I was not, however, sent away, but was kept 
on duty in the office and in fact I was treated by him 
with the greatest consideration and kindness. I was 
very glad indeed, to be left quietly in the office, for my 
boils were growing worse, and some days I could scarcely 
move. During the days preceding Christmas, I received 
some boxes from home, full of nice comfortable things, 
and the letter which came to me at that time, you may 
be sure, made me feel homesick. On Christmas night, I 
left for St. Louis as my teeth were troubling me, and 
greatly in need of the services of a dentist. I was for- 
tunate in finding a good one, and in a day or two the 
necessary repairs were made. 

On the 30th of December I returned to Cairo, reach- 
ing there in the night, and strange to say, feeling also as 
if the dirty old town was sort of home to me. New 
Year's Eve I spent at General Grant's at a sort of small 
party, after which I wrote home my New Year's letters. 
I remember it all so well, and chiefly I remember the 
famous batch of home letters which had accumulated 
at Cairo during my absence, and the wondrous pleasures 
I had in going through them, one by one. 

On New Year's evening, January i, 1862, which fell 
on a Wednesday, I gave a little New Year's dinner of 
my own. I was not at that time, physically speaking, in 
very good shape, for in my New Year's letter to my 
mother, I tell her that there are certain positions which 



4 



Cape Girardeau, Mo. — Cairo, III. 101 

I cannot well occupy in consequence of my aforemen- 
tioned boils, and that these positions were "sitting, 
standing, lying down, walking, riding and running." 
So you see at once how disconsolate I must have been. 
Nevertheless I determined to have my New Year's din- 
ner in the little frame shanty in which I then had my 
quarters, the conspicuous feature of which was an iron 
stove, in which I burned large quantities of wood. My 
guests of the day were Medical Director James Simons, 
Dr. Aigner, a very clever German, who represented the 
Sanitary Commission, and Dr. John Kane, who was 
then one of the resident assistant surgeons at Burke's 
post hospital. Our dinner, a very good one, and rich in 
game, was washed down by some excellent wine, chiefly 
that sent by Mr. John C. Van Renselaer of Newport, 
R. I., for the Christmas dinner which I did not eat in 
Cairo. I remember especially some burgundy, and some 
famous old "Constitution madeira," which its donor 
said had made the voyage round the world in that old 
warship; at all events it was sound wine, and served its 
purpose, and elicited profound wine stories from twO' at 
least of the diners around my modest table. So it all 
went off merrily, and I remember that good dinner more 
clearly than many a far better one since. 

In the early part of January, 1862, rumors began to 
creep around the staff of an expedition somewhere, but 
the information was most vague. Soon, however, these 
took shape and on the 9th, I received an order from 
General Grant to accompany him on an expedition. 

My guess as to the object of this expedition was cor- 
rectly stated in my letter to my Mother, dated on the 
steamer "Esmeralda," at an encampment on the Ken- 
tucky shore, six miles from Cairo, as follows : 

"I imagine the object of the expedition is merely to 



102 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

prevent the enemy at Columbus (Ky.) from ordering 
troops away from Columbus to Bowling Green (Ky ) 
1 thmk Buell is about to make an attack, and that we 
are put forward on the principle of 'Brag to support 

nu- ^f '" *^^ '^""^ ^'""^ I ^^d- "I just missed be- 
mg Chief Surgeon to this expedition. Dr. Simons was 

"'vu .f ^,^ '' "^^^ '"°"^^ *^ ^°"^^ to-morrow, so I go 
with McClernand instead of Grant. Grant wanted me 
and paid me the compliment of ordering me peremT> 
tonly to come with him, but General McClernand 
claimed me so I had of course to go. A little piece of 
vanity all this, but you need not tell." 

So as will be seen, I went with Gen. McClernand who 
was in direct command of the expedition, about 5,000 or 
0,000 men Gen. Grant accompanied, having his own 
body guard. Dr. John K. Kane volunteered, and asked 
permission of General Grant to go with him. The 
General was delighted, "I accept you, my boy," he said, 
and made hirn surgeon of his body guard. In this posi- 
tion Kane behaved admirably, and I may say here that 
he stuck very close to the General in a very hard, and 
at that time, much talked of reconnoisance which the 
General made around Columbus. The ride was from 
40 to 50 miles, the day dreadful with snow and sleet 

I.. u ^^^ ^'"''^^ '"^"^"^^ t^ his camp late at 
night with only Rawlins, Kane and an orderly or so. 
/he rest of his escort was left on the way and struggled 
in as best they could afterwards. It was, I fancy the 
recollection of this ride and its attendant weather, which 
lingered m his memory so long, and which prompted his 
description of ''splashing through the mud, snow and 
rain, as given at page 286 of the first volume of his 
personal memoirs. The General never forgot either the 
ride or Kane. Only two or three years before his death 



Cape Girardemi, Mo. — Cairo, III. 103 

he recalled the circumstance to me, and asked, "How is 
little Kane?" 

I ought to say something right here of General Mc- 
Clernand, for I was now serving on his staff. He was 
a fine, or rather let me say a good, specimen of an active, 
bustling western politician, and one possessed of a cer- 
tain amount of influence. Doubtless he was a clever 
lawyer and shrewd politician, but he aspired to be some- 
thing else, — a general. I do not think that he ever 
exactly comprehended what a real general was, or should 
be; nor do I believe he ever eliminated the idea of poli- 
tician in his estimate of the soldier. The latter was by 
his standard not only a fighting, but also, a talkative 
personage. Placed by circumstances near Grant, he was 
even at this early day jealous of him; at least, it seemed 
so to me then. He was, however, kind to me, and bore 
me no grudge, as many a man would have done, under 
the following circumstances. 

Shortly before this I had been stationed in charge of 
the general hospitals of the District of Cairo; General 
Grant was away from Cairo (at St. Louis I think), and 
General McClernand commanded in his absence. One 
of the latter's orders was to this effect : "That all able- 
bodied men in the hospitals in the District should be 
returned to their command, irrespective of the hospital 
duties they were performing, or the sources of their de- 
tail." The execution of this order, the superintendence 
of serving it and carrying it out, he entrusted to a chap- 
lain. By the regulations of the army, a chaplain's 
functions were limited to his own department, and he 
was incapable of executing command. The order was 
clearly illegal, but apart from this, its execution would 
have instantly paralyzed the whole hospital department 
pf t|ie entire district of Cairo, at a time too, when its 



104 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

efficiency was most called for. I accordingly instructed 
my surgeon to disobey it, and by my own endorsement 
disputed Its validity. General Grant on his return sent 
for me, showed me my rebellious order, and added. 
Doctor, this is a very serious business." My answer 
to him was, "General, when you entrusted to me as 
your Medical Director the care of the invalid of your 
command, you said to me, 'Doctor, take care of my sick 
and wounded to the best of your ability, don't bother 
over regulations.' Now, General," I added, "I have done 
this to the best of my ability. If I have done right you 
will support me; if I have done wrong, you know what 
to do with me." The general looked at me a moment 
took the paper, and put on it the endorsement which lives 
in my memory: "The object of having a Medical Direc- 
^r IS that he shall be supreme in his own Department 
The decision of Surgeon Brinton is sustained." I have 
always regarded this action of General Grant, the posi- 
tion of an old soldier, toward me, who was trying 
perhaps ignorantly, to do my duty under novel and 
difficult surroundings, as very noble. I think that my 
veneration for his character, and my strong personal 
affection for him, dated from that interview. I doubt 
if another officer of his rank in the army would have so 
supported a medical officer under like circumstances 

At the time General McClernand was slightly annoyed 
biit he behaved well to me, especially on this expedition' 
He requested that I should go on his staff, and General 
Grant verbally instructed me to do so, and I was taken 
very good care of. I remember very well that in the 
afternoon, the boat, the Esmeralda, tied up at the shore 
and General McClernand and his staff landed. I was in 
bad plight with my boils, and was very grateful to my 
commander, when he came to me, and said: "Doctor 



Cape Girardeau, Mo. — Cairo, III. 105 

you are so ill at ease, stay on board till morning, and 
land at your leisure." I thanked him, and went to my 
stateroom. He landed, but came back to the gangplank, 
and called the captain of the boat to him, when to my 
intense surprise, I heard him say, "Captain, take good 
care of my doctor, for he is a gentleman," I think he 
added, "A real gentleman." I was very much touched 
by his consideration, for it was unexpected. I never for- 
got it, and in one way or another, I did him good turns 
afterward, which he never knew of. 

In the morning, I landed and mounted. I must tell 
you about this mounting, if I can supply such a term to 
the arrangement of my saddlery. I had one stirrup, the 
left one, very long, so that I could stand in it as it were 
with my right thigh supported at an angle over the 
saddle. The right stirrup was very short, so that I 
could, when resting my foot in it, be uplifted over the 
saddle. This latter was well padded with a blue blanket, 
— and so I rode in the saddle, but not of it, or touching 
it. I could not have looked like a warrior on a career 
of invasion; I know I did not feel like one. However, 
I had not at this time far to ride, only a mile or so up 
a wood road to our "Camp Jefferson." McClernand's 
headquarters were at a farmhouse, with a big chimney 
place and bright fire blazing in the kitchen. On the 
nth of January, three Confederate gunboats came up 
the Mississippi; our gunboats saw them, and started 
down to give battle. A good deal of heavy firing en- 
sued, but a fog suddenly sprang up, the firing ceased 
abruptly, and we all felt some anxiety as to the result. 
It was determined to send one of our transport steamers 
down the river to learn the result. I begged permission 
to go on her, and we started. Our crew consisted of 
the engineer, fireman, a hand or two, an engineer officer 



106 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

to observe, and myself. We steamed steadily along, 
watching the Kentucky shore, for fear of field batteries ; 
at one time, we made out hostile tents, so we turned the 
boat around, and dropped slowly downward stern fore- 
most, so as to be ready for a quick start homewards, in 
case of danger. As we neared the suspicious canvas, the 
tent walls vanished, and we found only some linen of 
an old woman's wash, hung out to dry on the bushes. 
Soon the fog cleared away, and we saw our own and 
the enemy's boats a little below us, and some distance 
apart. Firing began at once, and in a moment a shell 
from one of our ship's guns burst directly at one of 
the enemy's ports ; the rebel boat immediately turned and 
steamed away with her consorts. We, that is, the en- 
gineer and myself, ran to our little fleet and boarded the 
flag ship. We were very kindly received (by, I think, 
Commodore Porter) and had a good luncheon. The 
ship or gunboat was one of the Mississippi ironclad 
fleet, designed by Captain Eads, and known as "Tur- 
tles," broad-bottomed boats, suitable for shallow waters, 
with sloping sides, or rather tops, plated with two inch 
iron, on which projectiles would glance. I was greatly 
interested by all that I saw here, for everything was 
in fighting trim, ship and men, and the smell of the 
powder was over all. 

Having been furnished with the account of the naval 
skirmish, the engineer and I returned to our transport 
and went back to headquarters with our budget of news. 
I ought to add that the boats of the enemy had been in- 
dustriously planting torpedoes in the river channel until 
stopped at their innocent work by our fleet, which pulled 
up these dangerous machines. 



1 



CHAPTER VIII 

ST. LOUIS 

On the 13th of January, 1862, I received an order 
from General Grant, informing me that I had been de- 
tailed as a member of the board of their medical officers 
to convene at St. Louis, January i6th, for the examina- 
tion of officers, and directing me to proceed at once to 
that city. The object of this board, of which I was 
president by seniority, was the examination of regimental 
surgeons and assistant surgeons and contract physicians, 
who had appeared to be deficient in medical qualifica- 
tions ; and in other words, to find out the medical "black 
sheep" of the Department of Missouri, and very black 
some of them were. 

Accordingly, I left the expedition, and I must confess, 
with regret, as I had by this time come to like the men 
with whom I was serving, especially General Grant, and 
had formed a conviction, I can scarcely say how arrived 
at, that he was the man destined to close the war. I was 
still physically most uncomfortable from my many boils, 
and horseback exercise was really torture. In one sense, 
therefore, I was relieved at being sent to St. Louis, 
though looking forward with pleasure to a speedy re- 
turn as soon as I should be in better health. Passing 
through Cairo on the 14th, I arrived at St. Louis on the 
same night, or rather early in the morning of the 15th, 
and took up my headquarters at the Planters' House, 

107 



108 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

the best hotel in the city, and crowded with officers and 
persons on military business. 

In a letter to Dr. DaCosta of about this date, I wrote 
as follows about George McClellan, my cousin: "If he, 
(General McClellan) does not move, he will topple over. 
If Grant takes Columbus, or Bowling Green, George may 
find a rival. The people here are losing confidence in 
him. What does he mean ? Is the fighting after all to be 
done here in the west?" 

In this letter, too, I speak of a friend, whose acquaint- 
ance I here made, — Captain I. P. Hawkins, Commissary 
of Subsistence, U. S. A. He was a very honest and good 
hearted fellow, and a good friend to me who gave me a 
great deal of sound advice, which I tried to follow, and 
which I am sure was to my advantage in the service. 
One of his favorite teachings was, "Always be satisfied 
with your present detail of duty; do not pull wires, or 
try for something else, or seek to supplant any other 
officer; be content with what you have; do your duty 
as well as you can, and it will most probably turn out 
well. Services which are sought for, especially unfairly 
sought for almost always bring trouble and regret after 
them." All this was very good advice for me. 

My time in St. Louis passed pleasantly. The duty 
was not hard, and the other members of the board were 
very congenial. I had a good deal of time to myself; 
office, or rather, board hours, were only in the morning, 
so I made friends and paid visits. Among the military 
men I knew at the time in St. Louis were Col. Woods, 
Col. Totten, Col. Thorn, of the Topographical Engineers, 
Generals Sturgis, Schofield, Sweeny, and Van Renselaer, 
and many others. The presence of the headquarters 
kept the city gay. The General in command of this 
Department, or rather I think of the entire west, was 



St. Louis 109 

General Halleck. I afterwards became a member of his 
staff. 

The southern or secession feeling in St. Louis was 
strong and bitter. As I have already written, I had a 
good many friends, and soon found myself in St. Louis 
society, largely through the kindness of Mr. James E. 
Yeatman,* who was then the President of the Western 
Sanitary Commission, a very powerful organization. 
Mr, Yeatman was perhaps the most prominent Union 
citizen in St. Louis, and I believe was connected in some 
way with John Bell of Tennessee, a former defeated 
candidate for the Vice-Presidency of the U. S. Some 
of my friends in the army had spoken to Mr. Yeatman 
about me, and when I arrived in St. Louis as President 
of the Board of Examination, Mr. Yeatman called 
on me. He asked me if I was married, and when I said 
I was not, he asked me if I would like to see something 
of St. Louis society. I replied affirmatively, and very 
shortly (I mean an hour or so) I received a card to a 
Philharmonic Society, with an invitation to call at Mr. 
Yeatman's house, and accompany some of the young 
ladies of his family to the Concert Hall. This, I gladly 
did. I spent a pleasant evening, and the next day invita- 
tion after invitation reached me, and I was thus soon 
launched among a pleasant set of social acquaintances. 
I must also say here that although many of the men I 
met with in this society were, or pretended to be, loyal, 
the women were undoubtedly southern sympathizers. I 
found it best in public entertainment to wear my uniform 
as a sort of protection and thus show my colors. 

In a letter of January 26th, 1862, when writing home, 

*This gentleman was the original of the character of Mr. Brins- 
made in Mr, Churchill's novel, "The Crisis." E. T. S. 



110 Personal Memoir^ of John H. Brinton 

I find I have thus spoken of the "secesh settlement of 
St. Louis" : 

"But General Halleck is fixing all that now. It is 
becoming a dangerous game to be too 'sassy.' The 
Missouri refugees are being quartered in the houses of 
prominent secessionists. 'I will tell you when I want 
them carpets took up,' said one of these half savage 
union refugee women to one of the secession ladies of 
St. Louis, her unwilling hostess, and who was on the 
point of removing her parlor furniture with a view to 
rendering the house as little comfortable as possible. 
The carpets were not 'took up,' as it was understood 
that General Halleck might possibly order them down 
again, and he was a prompt man, using little ceremony." 

This was a time when everybody was having new ex- 
periences and learning new things. Even I was gaining 
my experiences, as appears by a plaintive appeal home: 
"Can you tell me any secret by which short buttons can 
be permanently retained on their respective sites? I 
haven't a button to my name." 

About this time General Grant came up to St. Louis 
to consult with Halleck. I saw something of Grant then. 
He treated me kindly, and as an old friend. One evening 
I was seated at rather a low theatre, smoking and listen- 
ing to the music and the wretched jabber on the stage, 
when I felt a hand placed on each shoulder, and looking 
up, I faced the General, puffing away at his cigar. "Oh 
Doctor, Doctor," he said, "if you only knew how it 
grieves me to find you in such a low place, and in such 
company," and he sat down, chuckling greatly. Before 
he returned to Cairo, which he did on the 27th of Jan- 
uary, he told me that he intended to have me back at 
Cairo with him before long. 



St. Louis 111 

In St. Louis, I made the most of my time, doing my 
board work and going much into society, and then too, I 
repaired my wardrobe and bought new Hnen. I had a 
present, by the way, just at this time of a fine green silk 
scarf. It was given me by a httle French Jewess, a 
Parisienne, whose husband was, if I remember rightly, 
post baker at Cairo, and whom I attended when sick. 
I charged him nothing, but she used to make me a nice 
French omelette at every visit, and give me a glass of 
delicious French light wine. I am afraid that the baker's 
bread was short of weight; he made a great deal too 
much money, and got into evil repute. I did what I 
could for them in one way or another, and so she gave 
me this green medical sash. I wanted it then, for the 
one I had was poor and mean and sashes were expensive. 
M. and Mme. Lazare prospered during the war, and long 
after the peace she became a very fine lady at Narra- 
gansett and her daughter was a piquante belle, and they 
forgot to remember the flour and the bakery. 

As I did not always wear uniform, I had for St. Louis 
use, civilian's suits. I can never forget on one occasion 
going to a large ready-made clothing establishment in 
that city to buy a pair of citizen's trousers, urgently 
needed. They had none to fit me. "None?" said I, 
"None?" and I turned to go despondently through the 
street door. "Stop a minute, stop, my dear sir," said 
the master salesman. "I have a thought," and he went 
to the open hatchway, leading to the upper stories, and 
putting his hand to his mouth trumpet fashion, he 
shouted "Isaac, I-sa-aa-c, send down at once a pair of 
the 'short-fats !' " 

On the fifth of February, I wrote to my Mother that 
I would probably start for Cairo soon; on the 6th. I 
add "That I am leaving in a great hurry this afternoon 



112 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

for Cairo at my own request." On the 7th I sent her a 
Hne to say that I had just arrived at Cairo and that Fort 
Henry on the Tennessee River had been captured, and 
that I would join General Grant at once. I remember 
distinctly the arrival of the gunboat, which one I have 
forgotten, confirming the news of the capture of Fort 
Henry. She arrived at Cairo on the 7th, flying the rebel 
or I suppose I ought now to say, the Confederate flag, 
upside down, I think, and below the flag of the United 
States. Her arrival created a great excitement at Cairo, 
which spread rapidly over the whole country as fast as 
the telegraph could convey the news. 



* 



, CHAPTER IX 

FORT HENRY — FORT DONELSON 

I immediately started for Fort Henry to report to 
General Grant, in obedience to orders. I found him with 
his staff on board one of the steamers. I believe it was 
the "Tigress." I was now the medical director of the 
forces in the field, Dr. Simons, the medical director of 
the district, being sick at Cairo. I had at this time plenty 
to do and was busy all the time visiting the regimental 
hospitals (tent hospitals, of course,) of the forces which 
were hurrying up from every direction, and which were 
encamped around the captured fort on the higher and 
partially dry ground. 

And here I ought to say something about Fort Henry, 
the first fort of any note which had been captured from 
the enemy. It was an earthen-work of some size, thrown 
up on the right bank of the Tennessee River, intended 
(in conjunction with another work. Fort Heiman on the 
left bank) to command the Tennessee River entirely and 
to prevent the passage of our gunboats along this river, 
and thus into Alabama, threatening Mississippi. Both of 
these forts when erected were some thirty-five or forty 
feet above the bed of the river and completely commanded 
it. Heavy rains, however, occurred and the river was 
greatly swollen; it had risen and was still rising rapidly, 
and the fort was now upon a level almost with the river; 
in fact the water had surrounded it, and so high was the 
stream that our gunboats fought at a great advantage, 

113 



114 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

and were indeed almost able to throw a plunging fire 
into the work. Provided, as it was, with heavy guns 
(seized at our navy yard at the beginning of the war) 
the fort nevertheless offered but a feeble resistance to the 
effective fire of our gunboats. The enemy's guns were 
soon dismounted, the fort became untenable, and during 
the night of the 6th was abandoned by its garrison. 
When I visited it, shortly after reporting to the General, 
it was a dreadful sight. Great heavy columbiads* were 
overthrown, some with their muzzles pointing in the air, 
their carriages were broken and stained with blood. 
Here and there too, were masses of human flesh and 
hair adhering to the broken timbers. The interior of 
the fort was a mass of mud, the back water from the 
stream having flowed in from the rear. 

It had been intended that the capture of Fort Henry, 
Tennessee, should be attempted by a co-operative effort 
of the naval and military forces of the Government, 
and for that purpose a considerable force, several thou- 
sand in fact, had been landed on the right bank of the 
river, with instructions to march up and occupy positions 
behind Fort Henry and between it and Fort Donelson, 
investing Fort Henry by land, while the fleet should 
operate from the river. The march of the troops had, 
however, been retarded by the inundation of the wooded 
banks of the river, and they did not reach their destina- 
tion until after the fort had surrendered to the naval 
forces. 

General Grant and his staff, of which I was a mem- 
ber, remained at Fort Henry until about the 12th of 

*A columbiad was an enormously heavy iron muzzle loading can- 
non, throwing round shells of eight, ten or eleven inches in diameter. 
They were constructed for naval use and for sea coast defence and 
were smooth bored and not rifled. E. T. S. 



Fort Henry — Fort Donelson 115 

February. Our quarters were on the steamer "Tigress." 
About the 12th the General and his staff started for Fort 
Donelson, some eight or nine miles distant from Fort 
Henry. Fort Donelson, afterwards so well known, was 
a strong earth-work on the slope of a hill, near the little 
town of Dover. It commanded the Cumberland River 
and the approach to Nashville. It was a strong fort, 
with heavy guns mounted high up on the hill, and a bat- 
tery of very heavy guns low down almost on the level of 
the river, at all events, on its level, in the then swollen 
condition of the stream. Two roads led from Fort 
Henry to Fort Donelson; the army moved along both, 
the cavalry watching the space between, so as not to 
allow any of the enemy to escape us. The Staff moved 
by the left-hand or low road. I rode near the General 
on my black horse, a strong powerful beast, which I had 
bought at Cairo. He was possessed of a fast walk, and 
moreover he would push in front of the other horses 
on the Staff. I could hardly keep him back ; he particu- 
larly and persistently would pass the General who rode 
his old favorite stallion "Jack." Finally, he very good- 
naturedly said to me, "Doctor, I believe I command this 
army, and I think I'll go first." 

When we reached Fort Donelson, our troops were 
extended and kept well in line, so as to be ready for any 
outburst of the enemy. Wandering off from the Staff 
to give some professional directions, I somehow or other 
got in front of this line, and it seemed to afford the 
men great pleasure to close up so as to keep me from 
getting through. I, and a solitary scared dog, were in 
front. After a while, when the men had had their joke 
at my expense, I passed through. 

We met with no opposition on this march and finally 
arrived near Fort Donelson. Our line of investment 



116 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

was soon formed. We marched in battle order, ready 
for action. The actual luggage of the staff was repre- 
sented by a few collars, a comb and brush and such toilet 
articles, contained in a small satchel belonging to me. 
General Grant had only a tooth brush in his waistcoat 
pocket, and I supplied him with a clean white collar. 
Of whiskey or liquor, of which so much has been said, 
there was not one drop in the possession of any member 
of the staff, except that in my pocket, an eight-ounce 
flask, which I was especially requested by the General 
to keep only for medical purposes, and I was further in- 
structed by him not to furnish a drink under any pretext 
to any member of the Staff, except when necessary in 
my professional judgment. But of this, I shall speak 
again. 

We occupied the headquarters house on the afternoon 
of the 1 2th of February and here we remained until after 
the capture of Fort Donelson, and of the little town of 
Dover, which was included within the enemy's lines of 
defence. The kitchen had in it a double feather-bed and 
this was occupied by the General, — some small rooms in 
the other parts of the house were crowded by other 
members of the staff. I think for one night the General 
slept somewhere else than the kitchen, but came down 
because of the bed and the warmer temperature. The 
big open fireplace was attractive. On the 13th, I was 
busy fixing my hospitals and doing the best I could. The 
whole of this day was employed in establishing the posi- 
tions of our forces, and in strengthening their lines. We 
threw up no breastworks, but depended upon the natural 
strength of the ground, and its "lay" for our protection, 
should the enemy attempt any sortie. But the idea of a 
sortie never entered General Grant's head, or if it did, 
it found no lodgment there. His ideas were fixed, that 



Fort Henry — Fort Donelson 117 

the enemy would stay inside their works and not readily 
venture out. 

One of my hospitals, that nearest to the Southern lines, 
was in a ravine, within sight of the hostile troops. It 
happened that some heavy skirmishing took place on the 
13th, chiefly along General McClernand's front, our right. 
Indeed it was more than skirmishing; for a time in fact 
a very lively fight. During this, a good many wounded 
found their way to this particular hospital, and not only 
wounded, but many, a great many faint-hearted ones, 
who disgracefully sought the hospital precinct as a shel- 
ter. This congregation hourly increased, and I began 
after a time to feel anxious, lest the enemy, noticing so 
many stragglers, might sweep down, and make capture 
of both hurt and unhurt. The hospital had only its sacred 
character to defend it, and this was being debased by 
the gathering crowd. Then too, most of our hospital 
stores, I mean the reserve supplies, were here, and I did 
not wish them to fall into the enemy's hands. So I 
accordingly went to General Grant and explained to him 
the exposed position of the hospital. His answer was, 
"Yes, Doctor, I see, but they will not come and capture 
you." And back I went to the hospital. Yet things went 
from bad to worse, the stragglers increased in numbers. 
The hospital supplies became more and more important, 
in view of a probable approaching battle, and my anxiety 
was greater every minute. The loss of this depot and 
its supplies would have been almost paralyzing to the 
Medical Department. Again I saw the General. Again 
I told him my fears, and again heard his answer, as 
before : "They will not come." 

As the peril increased still more, I sought him a third 
time, and after saying all I could, I asked him "Am I 
exaggerating the risk, or the consequences of the loss of 



118 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

the medical stores of your army, removed as we now 
are from fresh sources of supply?" The General heard 
me as he always did, most patiently, and replied, "No 
Doctor, you are right, I know the exposure as well as 
you, and fully realize what a disaster would be the loss 
of our medical supplies; but yet Doctor, it will not hap- 
pen; the enemy might capture you all if they chose; they 
could do it with a small force of cavalry, but, Doctor, 
they won't do it, so you need not worry, they are not 
thinking of anything, except holding their position, so 
make yourself easy. The enemy are thinking more of 
staying in than getting out, I know him." And this 
was all my satisfaction, and it all turned out just as he 
General said, but nevertheless, I felt that my fears had 
been well founded. 

I do not intend here to give any military account of 
the attack on Fort Donelson. I am only telling about 
myself, but this is the schedule of the several days' op- 
erations. With about 15,000 men on February 12th, 
1862, Wednesday, we left Fort Henry and arrived before 
Fort Donelson. February 13th, 1862 (Thursday), was 
occupied in extending siege, positions, etc., and skirmish- 
ing and fighting on right in front of General McCler- 
nand. February 14th (Friday), there was little fighting, 
with an attack by a gunboat fleet under Commander 
Foote,* which failed. February 15th (Saturday), the 
enemy made a fierce sortie and are repulsed, and retire 
into the fort. General Grant visits the fleet. February 

*Andrew Hull Foote, the venerable Admiral and Christian gen- 
tleman worn out with hard service, died during the war while on 
his way to rejoin his fleet. Notwithstanding he had grog abolished 
in the Navy he was very much beloved by the sailors who often 
sung of him : "He increased our pay ten cents a day, And stopped 
our rum forever." E. T. S. 



Fort Henry — Fort Donelson 119 

i6th (Sunday), surrender of Fort Donelson to the Union 
forces under General Grant.* 

My exact professional position at this battle was a 
peculiar one. The Medical Director of the District of 
Cairo, General Grant's command, was Surgeon James 
Simons, U. S. A. He, however, did not accompany this 
expedition, but sent me as his representative with General 
Grant. 

Surgeon Henry S. Hewitt, U. S. Vols. (Brigade Sur- 
geon) next in rank above me on the army list was the 
surgeon and medical director of the command of General 
Chas. F. Smith, who was under the order of General 
Grant, and who commanded the division originally sta- 
tioned at, and around, Paducah, Ky. 

Dr. Hewitt was, therefore, during the Fort Donelson 
campaign the acting Medical Director in the field of 
General Grant's forces, although himself attached to the 
staff of General Smith, outranked by General Grant. 
Dr. Hewitt and I arranged matters between ourselves. 
He would remain with General Smith to whom he was 
strongly attached, while I was to look after the hospitals, 
to see to their organization, the transportation of the 
wounded, and to the general surgery of the field, and this 
I did thoroughly, to the best of my ability. A great 
many operations I performed myself, and many others 
I assisted and directed in performing. 

On the 1 5th, in the early morning, General Grant went 

*For my ofificial report of the "Account of the campaign of the 
Army of the Tennessee from February to June, 1862, including the 
capture of Forts Henry and Donelson, and the battles of Shiloh and 
Corinth, by Surgeon John H. Brinton, U. S. V., Medical Director of 
the Army of the Tennessee." See Medical and Surgical History of 
the Rebellion, Fart I, Medical Vol, and appendix, Part I, Page 24, 
Paper 28, 



120 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

down to the fleet on the Cumberland River to consult 
with Commodore Foote, who had been wounded on the 
previous day, and who had failed with his gunboats to 
pass or force the strong batteries commanding the ascent 
of the river. Several of his vessels had been badly hit, 
and it was necessary for him to return to Cairo, or rather 
to Mound City to refit. It was during this absence of 
the General from camp, about which so much was un- 
kindly said, and has since been written, that the enemy 
made its famous sortie, attacking our right under General 
McClernand, and driving it back in confusion. Infor- 
mation of this was carried to General Grant, who hurried 
rapidly forward, to assume personal command and to 
resume the fight. What he did and how he did it, and 
how nobly he retrieved the day, and turned defeat into 
victory, and how the fort fell, are all now matters of 
history. On his arrival, he found our right in confusion, 
and driven back, although at a halt. The left of our 
line under General C. F. Smith was in excellent condition, 
and as yet unengaged. The center, in part, had gone to 
the help of our right, and its presence had been sufficient 
to check the onslaught of the enemy, and cause them to 
draw back within their lines. They had thus failed- to cut 
their way out, but they still held their fort, strongly 
defended by earthworks, batteries, and with most for- 
midable abattis. It was through an obstruction of this 
kind that our men had to pass to enter the fort. General 
C. F. Smith, who commanded our left, was ordered by 
Grant to lead his command through the abattis, and to 
pierce, if possible, the enemy's lines. This he did at 
once, and about 3 o'clock in the afternoon led his men 
forward. The move was one of difficulty, the abattis 
was dense and the enemy fought at great advantage. At 
one time, at the outset, our troops wavered in pushing 



Fort Henry — Fort Donelson 121 

through the obstructions. General Smith ralHed them 
with curses. In a letter to Dr. DaCosta from Fort 
Donelson, dated March 2nd, 1862, I remark: "You 
ought to have heard old C. F. Smith cursing as he led 
on his storming regiments. 'Damn you gentlemen, I see 
skulkers, I'll have none here. Come on, you volunteers, 
come on,' he shouted. 'This is your chance. You vol- 
unteered to be killed for love of country, and now you 
can be. You are only damned volunteers. I'm only a 
soldier, and don't want to be killed, but you came to be 
killed and now you can be.' And so the old cock led 
them with a mixture of oaths and entreaties over the 
breastwork. The loss was heavy, but he never flinched, 
but sat straight on his horse, his long white moustache, 
his stature and his commanding presence, making him a 
conspicuous mark. He was every inch a soldier, and a 
true discipHnarian. Without Grant and Smith there 
would have been no such result, so no more sneers about 
the regulars. They are the men; without them volun- 
teers are but a rabble. I believe that with the splendid 
material for the ranks, all we want are good officers to 
have the most magnificent army in the world." 

Seeing his front line shrinking and wavering, the Gen- 
eral turned to my friend Surgeon H. S. Hewitt, U. S. V., 
who was by his side, saying, "Hewitt, my God, my 
friend, if you love me, go back, and bring up another 

regiment of these d volunteers. You will find them 

behind the bushes." And this Hewitt did, leading the 
men forward, himself mounted, and the yellow staff 
trappings on his black horse, making him a most con- 
spicuous object, as he headed the regiment until the 
abattis was reached. With the regiment he passed 
through by the side of his General, until a lodgment was 
effected inside the hostile lines. This gallant assault 



122 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

of General Smith, and his success, ensured the surrender 
of Fort Donelson on the following morning. 

I ought to say something here of these two men, so 
typical of their kind. General C. F. Smith was the very 
beau-ideal of a soldier, I mean the real soldier; at the 
time of which I am writing, he had been thirty-seven 
years in the service, having been appointed a brevet 
second lieutenant in the Second Artillery in 1825 (eigh- 
teen years before General Grant entered the service). 
General Smith had, I think, been commandant of the 
Military Academy of West Point when General Grant 
was a cadet, or if not, he was on duty there at that time. 
He was tall, six feet three, I should think, slender, well 
proportioned, upright, with a remarkably fine face, and 
a long twisted white moustache. He was a strict dis- 
ciplinarian, fearless, determined, grim. Altogether, he 
was a typical military man in his appearance, air and 
manner. He had served in the Mexican War with dis- 
tinction, and was respected in the old army. He had 
some of the faults of his kind, but a braver, bolder, more 
determined soldier, never lived. Dr. Hewitt was a 
surgeon in my own corps, one of the Brigade Surgeons, 
afterwards known as Surgeons of Volunteers, U. S. A. 
He had originally been an assistant surgeon in the reg- 
ular army before the war, but resigned, and on the out- 
break of the rebellion, entered as a Brigade Surgeon, 
standing third on the list. His name was next above my 
own. He was a very brave man, impulsive, easily irri- 
tated, but kind and generous. He had a somewhat 
poetic temperament, and I have copied here his "Song 
of the Shell" ; written under fire, I think, he told me, on 
the field of Shiloh, where he greatly distinguished him- 
self for his professional efficiency and personal gallantry. 



Fort Henry — Fort Donelson 123 



SONG OF THE SHELL. 

There's a music aloft in the air, 

As if devils were singing a song, 

There's a shriek, like a shriek of Despair, 

There's a crash which the echoes prolong. 

There's a voice like the voice of the gale, 
When it strikes a tall ship on the sea. 
There's a rift like the rent of her sail. 
As she helplessly drifts to the Sea. 

There's a rush, like the rushing of fiends. 
Compelled by some horrible spell. 
There's a flame, like the flaming of brands. 
Plucked in rage from the fires of Hell. 

There's a wreath, like the foam on the wave, 
There's a silence unbroke by a breath. 
There's a thud, like the clod in a grave. 
There is writhing, and moaning, and Death. 



CHAPTER X 

INCIDENTS OF THE SIEGE OF FORT DONELSON 

Before speaking of the capture of Fort Donelson, I 
must call attention to some events of the investment of 
the place. The weather was terrible during almost the 
entire time, alternating between sleet and snow, especially 
at night. It was very cold, and the sufferings and dep- 
rivations of the men were excessive. As our lines ex- 
tended close around the works, it was necessary to 
conceal the exact position of the soldiers as much as 
possible. Fires, therefore, on the front lines were not 
permitted, and I wondered at the time how our poor 
fellows could endure the long cold nights without fires 
and with insufficient coverings. This latter statement 
may seem strange, but the fact is that in the march across 
the country, many of the men had found their blankets 
and overcoats cumbersome, and had left them by the 
roadside, or placed them in wagons, which had failed to 
make a redistribution. As it was, very many of the 
troops laid on the ground at nigHt, tentless, fireless, and 
with scanty covering. In spite of all this exposure, no 
cases of tetanus occurred among the wounded at Fort 
Donelson. 

Another matter which caused the Medical Depart- 
ment much anxiety was the removal of the wounded to 
the rear. 

This was a sort of double matter, a removal by two 
stages, as it were. The first one was to transport the 

124 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 125 

wounded man from the place where he fell to the ad- 
vanced point where the ambulance could reach him. The 
second stage was his conveyance to the hospitals in the 
rear. The latter part of the trip was comparatively easy. 
All the regimental ambulances and extra wagons had 
formed themselves into a sort of ambulance train, which 
ran steadily and systematically to and from the hospital 
centers. The train was under the charge of a commis- 
sioned officer, who proved himself efficient and in- 
telligent. The first part of the trip, however, was a 
matter of much more difficulty, for it was no easy under- 
taking to carry the wounded, those helplessly wounded, 
from under the guns of the enemy. Yet this was accom- 
plished, and shortly after dark on each day's fight, all 
of the injured were brought in and sent to the rear 
hospital. 

To accomplish this required much cool courage, and 
one of the most remarkable cases of heroism I witnessed 
on the last day's battle. A Methodist clergyman (a 
chaplain, attached to one of the regiments, I believe), 
devoted himself to the removal of the wounded. He 
was a man of about thirty years of age, tall, strong and 
well built, of quiet, yet resolute manner. He had his 
horse and spent his time riding to the extreme front, ab- 
solutely under the enemy's fire. Here he dismounted and 
selecting the worst of our wounded men, he would lift 
him into his saddle, hold him there with one hand, while 
with the other he would lead his horse back through 
the lines to the rear hospital. Sometimes, he would 
bring off two wounded men at one trip. I watched him 
do this, and I must confess, felt a high appreciation of 
his courage, moral and physical, and the sincerity of his 
religion. I was glad to know on the next day that he 
had escaped unhurt. I cannot but think that his chivalric 



126 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

bravery was appreciated even by the enemy, who seemed 
to have spared him while on his self-imposed, self- 
sacrificing task. 

The behavior of the medical officers at this battle 
was admirable. General Grant thus speaks in his "Per- 
sonal Memoirs," Volume I, page 300, ''Up to this time," 
(the 13th) "the surgeons with the army had no difficulty 
m findmg room in the houses near the line for all the 
sick and wounded; but now hospitals were over- 
crowded. Owing, however, to the energy and skill of 
the surgeons, the suffering was not so great as it might 
have been. The hospital arrangements at Fort Donelson 
were as complete as it was possible to make them, con- 
sidermg the inclemency of the weather, and the lack 
of tents, in a sparsely settled country, where the homes 
were generally of but one or two rooms." 

During the continuance of the Fort Donelson cam- 
paign, I had ample opportunities of witnessing the 
military operations, and of seeing what was going on. I 
had not only to supervise the surgery of the rear hos- 
pitals, and in a general way to see that the wounded 
were being attended to, but I had also to superintend 
their transportation. Moreover, I had a certain responsi- 
bility with regard to General Grant and his Staff. I was 
thus kept moving from one point to another, and very 
many strange, sad, and sometimes amusing things passed 
under my eyes, 

I have spoken of the odd character of many of the 
western doctors, who were now regimental surgeons 
One of these, a Doctor, or let me say. Surgeon Henry 
Winter Davis (I think of the i8th Illinois Infantry), 
was a most impulsive, efficient, outspoken man. On the 
last day'- f^<rh.t. T found him with a gun in his hand, 
firing away with great spirit. I rode up to him, and said' 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 127 

"Doctor, this is hardly the work for you to be doing, 
you ought to confine yourself to strictly professional 
work." He was kneeling on the ground at the time. He 
stopped his shooting, looked up at me with a queer ex- 
pression, and said, "I'm all right, Doctor, I have done 
all the surgery of this Regiment, and have fired forty-five 
shots, by G-d." Then he added, "I am glad to see you 
here. I am glad you're not a feather-bed doctor," and he 
went on with his belligerent pastime. 

This same surgeon, I think, had a curious case. A 
soldier was brought to him, with a dreadfully crushed 
leg, apparently greatly swollen and distorted. He 
promptly amputated just above the knee, when out rolled 
a 1 2-pound shot or shell, from the tissues behind the 
knee joint, and the upper part of the leg where it had 
been concealed. I learned of this case verbally, and on 
inquiry, found that this actually occurred, though I was 
not able to procure the projectile, for the Army Medical 
Museum at Washington. 

I remember well one funny incident which happened 
at this time. General Grant had a body servant named 
Frank, French Frank we called him from his nationality. 
He was a great talker, and boastful, and often expressed 
a wish to see real fighting, and as he expressed it, cannon- 
shooting. It happened on the 15th, that he wandered 
away from headcjuarters and several of us, riding on a 
wood road near the front, met him. "Why, where are 
you going, Frank," we said, "do you want to be shot?" 
Just at that time, there happened to be a lull in the 
enemy's battery in front. "I have curiosity," said Frank, 
"much curiosity, and I must go see the enemy's fight." 
He was told "Go on, that road will surely bring you to 
them." Our party rode on, but Frank took us at our 
word, and in reality did march on in the half open space 



128 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

towards the enemy. Suddenly, we heard a terrible noise 
of musketry and artillery behind us. When next we 
saw Frank, he greeted us thus : "I have now no more 
curiosity; it is satisfied, it is all gone; the enemy did 
allow me to come near them, then all at once, they did 
begin to shoot at me, but I escaped them, and behold 
me!" 

I have already referred to our headquarter's accommo- 
dations at Mrs. Crip's. In this little house, I was a wit- 
ness to one or two strange incidents, which as far as I 
know have not as yet found their way into print. 

The enemy made their last sortie on the 15th, which 
was unsuccessful. As I happened to be in our kitchen 
bedroom in the after part of the day, I heard General 
Grant give orders to Captain Hiller, an aide-de-camp, to 
get ready to go down the Cumberland River at once 
by boat to Smithland, a little station at or near the junc- 
tion of the Cumberland and Ohio Rivers, and the nearest 
point of telegraph. When he should reach there, he was 
directed by General Grant to send a dispatch to General 
Halleck, the Commandant of the Department, informing 
him that "Fort Donelson would surrender on the follow- 
ing morning." I am not quite certain whether General 
Grant sent a written telegraphic message, or whether he 
simply verbally directed Hillyer to do so on his arrival at 
Smithland, but of the tenor of the message, and I think 
even the very words used, I am positive. When I was 
alone with the General, I said to him, "General, was it 
not a little dangerous to send so positive a message 
as to what the enemy will do tomorrow? Suppose he 
don't do it?" "Doctor," said the General to me, "he will 
do it. I rode over the field this afternoon and examined 
some of the dead bodies of his men ; their knapsacks, as 
well as their haversacks, were full of food; they were 



4 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 129 

fighting to get away, and now that they have failed, they 
will surrender. I knew their Generals (Buckner and 
Pillow) in Mexico, and they will do as I have said." I 
felt at that moment that I was talking to an extraordinary 
man. 

The night was inclement. Our troops slept on their 
arms. General C. F. Smith's division being absolutely 
within the lines of defense around Fort Donelson. All 
apparently passed quietly enough, no sorties were made 
by the enemy and no attack by us. General Grant slept 
at his headquarters in a feather bed in the kitchen, and 
I remember that I was curled up on the floor near the 
fire with my head resting in the seat of my saddle. 
Early, very early, an orderly entered, ushering in Gen- 
eral C. F. Smith, who seemed very cold, indeed half 
frozen. He walked at once to the open fire on the 
hearth, for a moment warmed his feet, then turned his 
back to the fire, facing General Grant who had slipped 
out of bed, and who was quickly drawing on his outer 
clothes. "There's something for you to read. General 
Grant," said Smith, handing him a letter, and while he 
was doing so. Smith asked us for something to drink. 
My flask, the only liquor on the Staff, was handed to 
him, and he helped himself in a soldier-like manner. I 
can almost see him now, erect, manly, every inch a 
soldier, standing in front of the fire, twisting his long 
white moustache and wiping his lips. "What answer 
shall I send to this. General Smith," asked Grant. "No 
terms to the damned rebels," replied Smith. Those 
were his actual words. General Grant gave a short 
laugh, and drawing a piece of paper, letter size, and of 
rather poor quality, began to write. In a short time, 
certainly, not many minutes, he finished and read aloud 
as if to General Smith, but really so that we under- 



130 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

strappers could all hear, his famous "Unconditional sur- 
render" letter, ending with, "I propose to move imme- 
diately upon your works." General Smith gave a short 
emphatic "Hm!" and remarking, "It's the same thing 
in smoother words," stalked out of the room to deliver 
the letter, which was shortly followed by the return an- 
swer of surrender. I recollect distinctly every feature 
of this visit of General Smith, his magnificent appear- 
ance, soldier-like bearing, and his abrupt mode of 
speech. The exposure of these nights must have told 
on him severely; he felt the cold and thrust out his feet 
and said, "See how the soles of my boots burned; I slept 
last night with my head in the saddle, and with my feet 
too near the fire; I've scorched my boots." 

I shortly went about my professional duties, and later 
in the morning, about eleven o'clock, I learned that the 
surrender had been consummated, and that General 
Grant and his staff were on a boat. Here I joined 
them, and found that the stateroom adjoining the Gen- 
eral's, had been assigned to me. 

About this time Lieutenant-Colonel McPherson,* soon 
to become so famous, and to die so gallantly, visited 
our headquarters. We were then all living in a small 
frame house known as Mrs. Crip's. While he was there 
I came to know him well. In the first place, I took to 
him greatly ; he was so winning and yet so manly. He 
suffered with a cystic tumor of the neck, low down, 
which pressed a]-)parently backwards, and interfered with 
tracheal respiration. For this, he consulted me. I must 
add that he was a good friend of my old friend, Major, 

*James Birdseye McPherson, killed at Atlanta while command- 
ing the Army of the Tennessee, temporarily succeeded for a few 
days by John A. Logan, and then to the close of the war succeeded 
by Maj. Gen OUver Otis Howard. — E. T. S. 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 131 

afterwards General Hawkins. So from one cause or 
another, in a few hours, we became very good friends, 
and one evening he told me, "Doctor, my breathing is 
bad, and I will sleep awhile in the cold, out on the porch ; 
come, lie down with me, I want to ask you some ques- 
tions." I did so, and rolled up in my buffalo robe close 
to him. Then he told me, "I have been ordered here, 
and instructed to obtain special information. All sorts 
of reports are prevalent at St. Louis (the headquarters 
of General Halleck, Grant's superior officer), as to Gen- 
eral Grant's habits. It is said that he is drinking terri- 
bly, and in every way is inefficient. I am fond of him, 
and want to do him justice." I told him as earnestly 
as I could the truth, — that the reports were unfounded, 
that I knew they were false, and assured him that to 
my knowledge there was no liquor on the Staff, that 
the contents of my pocket flask was the whole supply, 
and that I had been cautioned by General Grant as to 
its disposal, being positively forbidden to give any to 
any of the staff, except in medical urgency. I explained 
to McPherson that there were men near the General who 
disliked hTm and were jealous of him; yet, knowing this, 
and their attempts at detraction, he still moved on, un- 
disturbed. I think, indeed I am quite sure, that Col. 
McPherson believed me, and said that he would sO' re- 
port to General Halleck on his return, and was glad to 
be able to do so. He did do so, as he afterwards 
assured me when I saw him at St. Louis. 

Shortly after the surrender, I went down to the head- 
quarters' boat on which General Grant was. On my way, 
I noticed that the Confederate soldiers were doing a 
brisk business, by selling their bowie knives and small 
arms to our men who were buying them eagerly as 
trophies. I myself, had bought a very beautiful knife 



132 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

with a brass lion head, for which I had paid one dollar, 
and handed it to my servant to bring on board. I 
casually mentioned this traffic (but not my purchase), 
to the General. As all captured arms were the property 
of the Government, he issued an immediate order to the 
guards to confiscate all such arms, wherever found. As 
they went to the shore to carry out the order, it hap- 
pened that the first person met was my contraband 
(negro) servant, carrying my luggage and prominently 
displaying my recently purchased lion-headed bowie 
knife. My servant repbrted the loss to me, and I begged 
hard for my knife from the General, but he would not 
accede to my request. However, a day or two after- 
wards, he picked out a handsome Confederate sword 
from a pile of captured arms, and gave it to me, as 
he said "to make up for my loss." The sword, a 
Solingen blade, has C. S. A. on the blade, and the same 
letters on the brass hilt, which I was told was cast in 
Mobile, and is roughly finished. This sword I still have. 
At the same time General Grant gave me a wooden 
handled bowie knife, which had been made from a 
Southern cornstalk chopper. 

About an hour or so after the actual, but informal, 
surrender I entered the fort, passing through the abattis 
and I at once hunted our headquarters. General Grant's 
table was placed behind the dingy curtains, which sepa- 
rated what I suppose had been the ladies' cabin from 
the general cabin. When I went in, the General was 
writing his official report of the surrender. A number 
of officers were present. I quite vividly remember that 
at the time I was offering my congratulations to the 
General, that I said very kindly to him, "General, you 
are going to be the President of the United States. If 
I ask you then for a not improper office, will you give 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 133 

it to me?" He laughed, and said, "Doctor, I will; what 
do you think you will want?" "I should like to be 
Secretary of Legation to Paris," said I. "You shall 
have it," he replied, "when I am President of the United 
States." 

I often thought of this afterwards. My imaginary 
choice was based upon the fact that Dr. DaCota and 
I had often thought what a nice position that must be 
for a young unmarried man. We remembered a Secre- 
tary of Legation who always received his visitors in the 
last of seven or eight salons, "en suite." It was im- 
pressive. 

The capture of Fort Donelson, and what it carried 
with it was immense, not less than 15,000 men and many 
guns. The force under General Grant's command was 
less than 30,000 men. A great many of the enemy 
escaped in the night preceding the surrender, and with 
them, Generals Floyd, Pillow and Forrest with his 
cavalry force. At this time I had frequent oppor- 
tunities of talking quietly with the General, and I was 
much impressed with his magnanimity. Once, probably 
on the day of the surrender, I asked him how soon, or 
when, the enemy would be paraded and the formalities 
of surrender gone through with, such as the lowering 
of the standard and the stacking of the guns, and the 
delivery of the Confederate commander's sword. 
"There will be nothing of the kind," said General Grant 
to me. "The surrender is now a fact; we have the 
fort, the men, the guns. Why should we go through 
vain forms, and mortify and injure the spirit of brave 
men, who, after all are our own countrymen and 
brothers." All this seemed very strange to me whose 
mind was filled with the pageantry of European war- 
fare, as I had lately been reading Jomini, Thiers, and 



134 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

other books on warfare and war history. But it showed 
the kind of man Grant was. 

Grant was a ready writer; he wrote tersely, rapidly 
and very rarely struck out or altered; occasionally I 
have seen him interline a word or two. If any one 
was present whom he trusted, he would read a line or 
two aloud. I remember once, while on the boat at 
Donelson, he was writing some report; he had arrived 
near the bottom of the page of the first half sheet, and 
was about to sign. Looking up, he saw me, read what 
he had written, and asked me what I thought of it. I 
remarked that its termination seemed a little abrupt. 
He read it, and said, "So it is," and then adding two 
or three lines, he carried over to the next page, and 
signed, saying, "It does look better now." 

My chief occupation at this time was looking after 
the wounded and having them transported to the boat, 
fitted up for their reception and transfer, as fast as 
possible. They were put on board, carefully attended 
to and dressed, and then moved in the hospital boats to 
the great hospitals at Mound City, Cairo, St. Louis, 
Louisville and Cincinnati. Among our prisoners, I 
found several of my old students, who were serving in 
the medical corps of the enemy. I was glad to see them, 
but the pleasure was somewhat inconvenient, as I had 
to share my underclothes among them, as they were all 
destitute of linen. One or two of the southern sur- 
geons (I do not refer to any of my old friends) served 
us a shabby trick. It was reported at headquarters that 
some distance, seven or eight miles, up the river, and 
on the opposite shore, a rebel colonel was lying, griev- 
ously wounded. Two of the rebel doctors were sent 
under parole to see to him, and bring him in. They 
went, did not visit him, and then vanished to their homes 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 135 

or elsewhere. The poor fellow, thus abandoned, again 
sent to headquarters, complaining piteously of his con- 
dition and his neglect. I was ordered to go and look 
after him. I did so, gave the necessary directions, and 
succeeded with much difficulty in boarding a down-going 
steamer, returning to Donelson. 

I ought to tell you that the river at this time was very 
high, forty feet above its ordinary mark. This flooded 
a great extent of country and swept away large trees, 
frame and log houses, and created a terrible current. 
At one time, when we were occupying Fort Donelson, 
and the adjoining town of Dover, the water was rising 
an inch an hour. Our boats were moored to the bank, 
and the rise and subsecjuent fall of the water kept the 
captains of our boats constantly on the watch. Our 
horses were stabled on the boiler deck, and it was strange 
to see how soon they became accustomed to these 
quarters, and how thoroughly they associated the idea 
of home with a boat, in no way disturbed by the 
peculiar and noisy machinery of a Mississippi steamer. 
I was riding at that time a fine black horse, who swam 
very high out of water. He was not a pleasant-tem- 
pered horse, but he had sort of a good feeling toward 
me. He liked his boat, and on one occasion when the 
river was falling, and the descent of the river bank to 
the boat was somewhat difficult, having occasion to 
go on board of our headquarters boat for a few minutes, 
I left my black steed standing on the bank above. 
Whilst on board, it became necessary to change the 
mooring of the boat, and to do this, the Captain un- 
moored and began to back off from the shore, intend- 
ing to come in again to a satisfactory spot. When he 
had gone several feet from the shore, I happened to 
come down to the boiler deck. As I was on the stair, 



136 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

I was startled by a shuffling, sliding sound, a rush, and 
in a second my horse landed quite satisfactorily on the 
boat, having made the leap from the shore, across open 
water. He did not intend to be left behind. 

The arrangement of the great wastern steamers was 
well suited for the accommodation of animals. They 
were packed in tightly, and in the main got along in 
a friendly spirit. On one occasion, I was walking on 
the lower deck, when I met General Grant limping 
terribly, and rubbing his leg. "Why, what is the 
matter. General," said I. "Nothing. Oh nothing. Doc- 
tor," he replied. "I have just been to see Jack" (his 
big favorite stallion), "and he seems a little playful this 
morning," and off he limped, and all day continued 
bragging of Jack's playfulness and general Christian 
disposition. 

About this time among the horses tethered. Major 
(afterward General) Rawlins, Grant's Chief of Staff, 
had a very fine bay, with a splendid tail, which he was 
always admiring, saying to everyone, "Just see that 
splendid tail. It almost touches the ground." But, 
alas ! the animal was tethered in front of a mule, and 
one morning the tail was changed, the hair had disap- 
peared, and the bones stuck out bare and ragged, not 
very much longer than your hand and wrist. The fact 
was reported to Rawlins, and we went with him to 
examine the catastrophe. The report was true. At that 
time, Rawlins was very profane, even under ordinary 
circumstances, but this incident was overwhelming to 
him. At first, supposing this mutilation to have been 
the deliberate work of some malevolent person, his in- 
dignation knew no bounds, he could scarcely find anath- 
emas sufficiently strong to do justice to the occasion. 
When at last, it was discerned that the ornamental tail 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 137 

was eaten off for the salt in it, by the rear mule, Rawlins 
was dumb with wrath. 

And now that I have written Rawlin's name, I want 
to say something about him, for he was a most extraor- 
dinary man, and by his faithfulness toward the Gen- 
eral, his good judgment, his fearless and outspoken ex- 
pression of his convictions, and his quick sense of right 
and wrong, greatly assisted his chief in arriving at just 
conclusions, and in withstanding the temptations by 
which he was surrounded. 

You will scarcely believe or comprehend the dangers 
which encircled the General at this time. Bad men were 
ever approaching him, seeking to further their own 
plans and interests; some wanted promotion; some, 
place; and others, contracts, or the equivalent, recom- 
mendations, by which they could covertly grasp money. 
So specious were their propositions, and so cunningly 
were their tricks devised and concealed, that even the 
most wary could be deceived. And just here it was that 
Rawlins's cleverness and good sense were evinced. He 
was a young lawyer from Galena; he had known Grant 
in civil life; he understood him and knew the amiability 
of his disposition and his attachment to those whom he 
regarded as his friends, and it seemed to me even at 
that early date, that he deliberately took it upon himself 
to guard his chief, and to assume the part of the watch- 
dog at the gate, a duty which he discharged to the great 
good of the General and to the advantage of the country. 

Rawlins had set his mind upon one thing, that there 
should be no liquor used on the Staff, save for medicinal 
purpose. I well remember that on one occasion, a dis- 
tinguished officer of the regular army was assigned to 
duty on the Staff. In due time, he arrived ; his baggage 
was a very small portmanteau, and a quite large keg 



138 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

of whiskey. The fact was reported to Rawlins, who 
was the Adjutant-General of General Grant's Staff. His 
direction to the orderly was this: "Start the bung of 
the keg, then throw it into the river, and then carry 
the valise upstairs." And it was so done, to the chagrin 
of the officer, who thundered as loudly as one of his 
own guns. But it was too late, the keg floating away 
on the stream. 

Grant, as the world knows, was a man of gentle dis- 
position, yet he could be stern, where the discipline of 
his profession was involved. While we were at Donel- 
son, it was reported to him that some wanton burning 
and destruction of property had been permitted by one 
of his favorite colonels, who had a command up the 
river. This officer had paid a visit to our headquarters, 
and had left the General only a moment or so before 
the report came in. It was apparently truthful. Grant's 
action was prompt. Turning to one of his aides, he 

said, "Captain, follow Colonel , arrest him, take his 

sword, and order him to report to me at once." The 
unfortunate Colonel was arrested, to his intense sur- 
prise, before he had reached the top of the river bank, 
but I believe he made his peace, as the charge was ex- 
aggerated. 

About the 24th of February, as nearly as I can fix 
the time. General Grant, with his Staff, went up to 
Clarksville by boat. This place had been evacuated by 
the enemy, and then occupied by General C. F. Smith, 
and his division, acting under General Grant's order. 
The town had some comfortable houses, but yet it seemed 
lonely and desolate. On the following morning I think, 
we returned to Donelson ; on our way down, while mak- 
ing a bend in the river, we came in sight of a number of 
transports, crowded with troops coming up. The General, 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 139 

who was sitting at a table in his headquarters on the cabin 
deck, talking- to Rawlins, when informed of arriving 
troops, brought his hand down sharply on the table, and 
exclaimed : "Rawlins, I have it ; this is probably Nelson 
and his command. I will order him to report to Buell 
at Nashville." 

The interview between Grant and Nelson was a short 
one. In a few moments the latter was back on his own 
boat, and the dense cloud of black smoke, which rolled 
from her smoke stacks, told plainly enough that no 
time would be lost by "Bully Nelson," strange mixture 
and compound of sailor and soldier that he was. 

So Nelson passed up to occupy Nashville, and Grant 
in high good humor sailed down to his old position be- 
neath Fort Donelson. On the 27th or 28th of February, 
Grant with all his staff started up the Cumberland River 
to Nashville. The town looked sullen enough; there 
had been but little real Union feeling there, although 
everyone pretended to hold Northern sentiments. 
Nearly all whom I saw were traders, anxious to estab- 
lish themselves, and to replenish old stocks now ex- 
hausted. As we passed, we noticed Buell's troops at 
Edgefield, on the opposite side of the river from Nash- 
ville. He had not yet been able to cross, lacking trans- 
portation, and Nelson was still in command of the 
town. Before we left. General Buell, with a full staff, 
came over to Grant's boat. Buell's staff seemed large 
and formal, and far better appointed than ours. All 
the same, I imagined that there was a great difference 
in favor of our General, between the two commanders. 
The interview was formal, but I thought not particularly 
cordial. I fancy that Buell was disposed to fault-find- 
ing. Some of his words could be heard, and such was 
the impression conveyed to me, and to others. How- 



140 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

ever, the interview was soon over, and we turned home- 
wards, — that is, Donelsonward. 

While at Nashville, we all narrowly escaped a bad 
accident. The bridge at Edgefield had been burned, 
but the stone piers still stood. Our boat was above the 
piers ; the river level was twenty-five or thirty feet above 
ordinary, with a furious current. The navigation be- 
tween the piers was very difficult, and to strike the piers 
would have been the destruction of our boat. Our 
steamer in coming down, swerved, lost her headway, 
and was in great danger of striking the pier sideways. 
A catastrophe seemed inevitable, but somehow or other, 
the pilot brought her head around a little, and we passed 
through, with scarcely an inch to spare. I never could 
understand how we escaped; for a moment it seemed 
as if we had not a ghost of a chance. 

I have frequently spoken of Grant's humor. Here is 
an illustration apropos of a little question of mine. A 
great deal had been said about the water battery at 
Fort Donelson and I had asked the General what a 
water battery really was. His answer had been "I will 
tell you some day. Doctor." On this trip, as we were 
ascending the river, an orderly came for me in great 
haste, saying the General wanted me immediately, that 
I was to report to him without delay. I obeyed in- 
stantly. He took me by the arm, led me to the 
"Texas," and then pointing to the muzzle of a single 
gun, he said with great glee, "There is a water battery, 
study it well, and you will learn more than the engineers 
know." 

We reached Nashville on the evening of the 28th, and 
my business at this time required me to be a good deal 
among the troops stationed there. On one occasion just 
after the capture, I rode through Dover, a little town. 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 141 

and seeing a number of soldiers gathered in the court 
house, I went in. I found a number of men in the 
record room. A fire was burning in the corner, into 
which they were busily piling the written leaves of the 
registers of deeds and wills. This I stopped, and then 
looking a little carefully, I found one man, sitting on a 
pile of large rebel ammunition with a lighted pipe in 
his mouth, and pleasantly occupied in tearing or pick- 
ing out the cartridge ends. I had him and the rest of 
his friends out of that dangerous corner in very short 
time, and notified the Provost Marshal of that perilous 
unknown arsenal. Soldiers are often more silly than 
children. At times, they seem absolutely unable to take 
care of themselves. 

At this time, I was riding a dear little "secesh" sorrel 
pony with a dark-brown tail. She was as tame as could 
be and would follow me anywhere. I did not tie her 
but used to leave her at the door when I went into a 
hospital, and she would wait. On one occasion, I went 
into a house to see a sick soldier, leaving her as usual. 
When I came down, I found her in the entry, patiently 
waiting for me. To reach there, she had ascended one 
or two porch steps, had then crossed the porch and 
entered the open house door. She was a charming so- 
ciable little nag, and I parted from her with regret when 
the time came. She had been loaned to me by the 
Quartermaster. 

The question of courage, personal courage, is a strange 
one. At the storming of Fort Donelson was a young 
regimental lieutenant, who distinguished himself by his 
lack of personal bravery. When his regiment ad- 
vanced, he became demoralized, in fact to use the 
western phrase "stampeded." Instead of leading his 
men on, he dropped back, and lay down behind a fallen 



142 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

tree. For a while he was safe, but while endeavouring 
to stalk still further to the rear, he was wounded from 
behind, a stray ball injuring his knee joint. He refused 
all operation, and died a few days later from septic 
poisoning. He did not appear to greatly fear death, 
but although he knew he was disgraced in the eyes of 
his comrades, he still had an idea that he was, after 
all, a martyr. I saw him not very long before his 
death, and as I parted from him, his last words to me 
were, "Doctor, the tree of liberty is watered with my 
blood." His poor old father, quite a prominent officer 
of a neighboring state, felt deeply the stain on his name. 
He said to me that under the circumstances he would 
rather his son should die than live. He was a brave 
old Spartan; his great desire was to enlist as a private 
soldier in the regiment in which his son had been and 
thus try and obliterate the disgrace of his name. This 
attempt on his part was absolutely forbidden; but I can 
never forget the grim set of the old man's jaw. 

The interior of the fort was a sorry sight, I mean 
that portion near the bank of the river; a great amount 
of crude pork had been piled under the bluff by the 
Confederates before we took the place, and was in- 
sufficiently salted. Salt in the Confederacy was scarce 
then, and under the influence of the rain and the rising 
water, it had been decomposed and formed a horrid 
mess; it was good for nothing and had become a nui- 
sance. The salt had indeed lost its savor. Yet, in the 
end, it served to make much trouble, and almost caused 
the loss of a commander to the Army of the Tennessee, 
and possibly to the country, and thus. Busybodies had 
spread the report that after the capture of the fort, 
General Grant had allowed the destruction of much valu- 
able property (which, as Rawlins once told me, meant 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 143 

"that pork"). Then, too, it was asserted that his hving 
was irregular, that he had disobeyed orders, and in fact, 
that he had lost his head, and wandered up and down 
the river, in an aimless manner, thus permitting his 
army to become a mere mob, disorganized and un- 
manageable. The truth was that Fort Donelson once 
taken, Grant saw with a true soldier's eye that the next 
moves on the checkerboard of war would be the occu- 
pation of Clarkesville and Nashville, and the penetration 
of the southern land by columns moving from Nashville. 
But his superiors at St. Louis and Washington thought 
otherwise; Nashville was to be taken by Buell, who was 
heading thither at a snail's pace. Grant at this time, 
having captured Fort Donelson, was anxious to occupy 
Nashville, but his orders forbade him. It was only 
when Nelson's division on transports met Grant upon 
the river above Fort Donelson (having been ordered to 
report to him while the siege of Fort Donelson was in 
progress), and reached the fort, now ours, when their 
services were not needed, that the idea struck Grant 
that he could order Nelson to report to Buell at Nash- 
ville, Buell, not having reached there, and Nashville 
not having been captured by Union troops. So Grant 
captured Nashville with Buell's men, Buell himself be- 
ing an unwilling spectator from the opposite, or wrong 
side, of the river. These facts were perfectly well 
known upon Grant's staff, and caused not a little un- 
kind feeling on the parts of Generals Buell and Halleck. 
Buell was an angry man. He had but a poor opinion 
of Grant, and in one of his dispatches either to Halleck 
or McClellan, he used the expression, "My troops are 
being filched from me." This I have seen in official 
form. 

And here I wish to add a note explanatory of the 



144 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

circumstances under which I saw these dispatches for 
a second time, and at my leisure. At a later period in 
the war, I was stationed at Washington, and detailed 
on duty in the office of the Surgeon-General to prepare 
the Surgical History of the War. Grant was at that 
time in the neighborhood of Washington with his head- 
quarters at the War Department. Wishing to refresh 
my memory on the events of the period on which I am 
now writing, I asked and obtained permission through 
Rawlins, to look over the old record and dispatch books 
on file in the office. This permission was readily 
granted, and as I knew so many of the old staff well, 
I had every opportunity for study, and was thus en- 
abled to read what I pleased. Not a little rough manu- 
script which I then compiled was afterwards printed in 
the Medical and Surgical History of the Rebellion. 

I find in a letter to Dr. DaCosta, some opinions of 
what was taking place around me. My letter is dated : 

"Headquarters, Fort Donelson, March 2, 1862," and 
reads in part as follows: 

"I have not had time to write you since the battle with 
its stupendous results. PVe took Nashville, not Buell, 
for it fell in consequence of Donelson. I am afraid 
Buell, who has now 125,000 men, is too cautious. He 
sent down yesterday, or the day before, for Smith's 
command of 2,500 men, to Nashville, when he had 
40,000 or 50,000 there. He should push on, and not 
allow the enemy time to fortify at Murfreesboro. Grant 
would do it. By the way, our General is a good soldier 
and prompt. He means what he says, and says what he 
means. He is not afraid of responsibility. (Dn the Fri- 
day before Donelson, he told me, 'Doctor, if I was a 
little more assured of my men, I would storm with every 
man at twelve tonight, but I am not sure of them in a 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 145 

night melee.' The place must fall to a moral certainty. 
On Saturday night, he was certain of it, and told us in 
the morning that we would be in, and so wrote to Hal- 
leck. He avd I have the biggest kind of military talks, 
and it would do you good to hear me expressing my 
views as to the next steps. Grant told me the other day, 
'Doctor, wherever I go, I want you to come,' and he 
would not allow me to be moved from his staff when 
Dr. Hewitt joined. He was on Smith's staff, but very 
generously applied to be relieved, as he saw Grant wanted 
me. He did not wish to interfere with me, so now I 
rank everybody, unless some old regular surgeon should 
be sent here." 

On March 4th, General Grant and his staff left Fort 
Donelson and rode over to Fort Henry, taking up our 
quarters on a steamer. At this time an expedition was 
fitted out to ascend the Tennessee River. It went under 
the command of General C. F. Smith. Grant remained 
on the boat at Fort Henry, and I stayed with him. The 
country around the fort was thoroughly inundated, and 
as a consequence, the health of the troops who had en- 
camped there, had suffered greatly, especially from camp 
dysentery and fevers. 

On March 6th, I rode over to Fort Donelson, to look 
after the sick and wounded, and this done, on the fol- 
lowing afternoon started by boat to go round Fort 
Henry again. We steamed pleasantly down the river, 
the night was brightly moonlight, and I was sitting on 
the upper deck by the side of the big smoke pipes or 
stacks. Of a sudden, without warning, we were en- 
veloped, that is, I was, in dense smoke. We were steer- 
ing very close to the shore, and had run into an im- 
mense sycamore tree which grew on the bank. Our 
huge pipes were instantly broken off and lay prostrate 



146 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

on the deck, volumes of thick, choking snr'oke rolling 
from their stumps. Fortunately, I at that moment was 
sitting close to the ladder, which led to the -lower deck, 
and although in utter darkness, I was able to creep down 
and find refuge below. By moderating the fires, the 
dense smoke was in some way eliminated, and we crept 
slowly along, reaching Paducah the next morning. Here 
I found thirty-eight transports loaded with men, waiting 
to ascend the Tennessee River. In a short note to my 
sister, mailed from here, I find that I refer to a photo- 
graph sent her of General Grant, which probably was the 
first I had of him. I told her "I will send you an auto- 
graph of Grant's to put under the photograph. By the 
way, his name properly is U. Grant; this, he told me 
himself; — the cadets nicknamed him U. S. Grant, 
(Uncle Sam). It crept into the army register as U. S. 
Grant, and so he has always written it since." 

At Paducah, I found many newspaper reporters and 
was surrounded, and pumped for battle-field anecdotes. 
My imagination was then vivid and I gave it scope. 
The same day "Nigger" and I went up the river and re- 
ported at headquarters. "Nigger" was my jet-black 
horse, so named by my servant. I called him "Nig" for 
short, and he soon learned his name. On reaching the 
old headquarters, I passed several very pleasant days. 
One thing I particularly remember. We had a washer- 
woman on board, who not only could wash, but could 
also darn, so I had an opportunity of overhauling an 
important part of my wardrobe, and was for the present 
relieved from the unpleasant necessity of tying up my 
stocking toes to get rid of the holes. 

It was at this time, that a remarkable occurrence took 
place which might have influenced not only the after 
career of the General, but indeed possibly that of the 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 147 

nation also. I have already referred to the dissatisfac- 
tion felt by General Halleck, and by the War Depart- 
ment authorities at Washington with the events which 
followed the surrender of Fort Donelson, and how blame 
was heaped upon the head of General Grant, a victorious 
general, and so far, the only successful general of the 
war. Matters soon culminated. On March 2nd, Gen- 
eral Grant was ordered back to Fort Henry, and on the 
4th was ordered to place General C. F, Smith in com- 
mand of the expedition up the Tennessee River. On 
the 6th of March, General Halleck severely reprimanded 
Grant for neglect of duty after capture of Fort Donelson. 

On the 7th, and subsequently on the nth, Grant asked 
to be relieved from duty in the Department. After the 
7th, the day on which, at Fort Henry, he received Hal- 
leck's letter of the 6th, he was practically in arrest, and 
so continued until the receipt of a letter from Halleck, 
dated St. Louis, March 13th, 1862, refusing to relieve 
him from duty, as he had requested, and closing thus: 
"Instead of relieving you, I wish you, as soon as your 
new army is in the field to assume the immediate com- 
mand and lead it on to new victories."* The communi- 
cations of Halleck to Grant, I saw when they were 
received, and of the virtual arrest of Grant on the 7th 
of March I was cognizant, Rawlins having told me of 
it at the time, and General Grant having spoken of it 
to his staff. 

It would seem as if these discourtesies, and the prac- 
tical arrest of the General were the result of communi- 
cations passing between Halleck at St. Louis and Gen- 
eral McClellan at Washington, and somehow or other, 
I also formed the opinion at the time that General 

* Official records, War of the Rebellion, Series i, Vol. X, Part ii, 
p. 32. 



148 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Buell's complaints had not a little to do in leading to 
the misunderstandings. 

The treatment received by General Grant from his su- 
perior officers at this time cut him bitterly. In a letter 
written by me to Dr. DaCosta from Fort Henry, dated 
March nth, 1862, I alluded thus to passing events: 
"Grant has been demanded to be relieved from this de- 
partment. Halleck did not arrest Grant, but ordered him 
to remain here, as bad, if not worse. Out here, we are 
destitute of good artillery men, and cavalry officers, and 
were it not for the innate pluck of the troops and officers, 
we should be in a bad way. I have seen the telegrams 
and dispatches and was never more surprised in my life, 
than when I read the one putting the General on the 
shelf. It was infamous, and the blame rests with his 

superior officers, and that confounded , a Chief of 

Staff, a Miss Nancy of the worse kind. I traveled with 
him, and he is the only man I ever saw who watched 
a checked piece of baggage. When this thing comes 
out, defend Grant. He obeyed his orders to the letter, 
and had he not been stopped, would have been at Chatta- 
nooga at this time. His fault was in being too strong 
and active." 

His headquarters at Fort Henry were on a steamer, 
I think still the "Tigress." During this interval be- 
tween the 6th and 13th of March, 1862, when he was 
under a cloud, I passed on one occasion, into the back 
part of the cabin deck, that part curtained off as the 
ladies' saloon, used at the time as the private office of 
headquarters. My own stateroom was near to Grant's, 
and opened into the office of Generals Logan, Ogelsby, 
Cook, Lawler, who, with others of the staff, recently 
created brigadiers, at Grant's recommendation, were 
there. Several of them who had been at the Battle of 



Incidents of the Siege of Fort Donelson 149 

Belmont were Icnown as the Belmont Colonels. They 
had just presented a sword of honor to General Grant, 
and it lay upon its open case upon the table. The Gen- 
eral had received it when presented, but unable to an- 
swer and overcome by his emotions, he turned and went 
back through the cabin door on to the open deck. I was 
at first ignorant of what had happened, but was told. 
In a little while most of the officers, indeed, I think, 
all, had left the headquarters office, and shortly after- 
wards I went out on the guards, and there stumbled 
across the General. The tears were on his face, un- 
mistakably. He took me by the arm, without a word, 
led me back to the round table on which the sword lay, 
in its open case, pushed it as it were, toward me, say- 
ing, "Doctor, send it to my wife, I will never wear a 
sword again." The incident made a deep impression 
on me at the time, and has never since passed from my 
mind. 

While here, Grant actively and regularly pushed for- 
ward the regulations for the expedition up the river 
under General Smith. Anxious to give me every chance, 
he ordered me to report to Sherman, who had a com- 
mand with General C. F. Smith on this expedition, but 
as I saw that Sherman did not want me, but did want 
Surgeon Hewitt, and as there was a difficulty as to my 
rank, I ventured to suggest that I should remain behind 
with Grant, and so I was relieved of my order to him, 
and returned to Grant's headquarters. When I told 
him, he took me by both hands, saying, "My boy, I 
knew you would not leave me; stay with me." Kind 
as he had always been, and always was afterwards to 
me, this was, I believe, the only time at which he was 
familiar to me. 

I might mention here the manner and deportment of 



150 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Grant and Smith. Smith had been commandant at 
West Point when Grant had been in the academy as a 
cadet. The latter in one sense still looked up to him 
in the memory of his old office; and yet I could not help 
feeling, and noticing, that there was an unconscious 
deference on the part of Smith to Grant as a soldier. 
It was apart from rank; it seemed indescribable; but 
it was there, it was the recognition of the master. On 
the evening before the expedition sailed, as the two 
walked up and down the guards of the boat, the last 
walk they ever took together, this relationship seemed 
to me stronger than ever. 

The week I spent on the boat at this time, and after 
Smith had sailed away, and left our headquarters de- 
serted and lonely with the troops all away, seemed sad 
enough. The General was depressed, Rawlins was out 
of spirits, and everyone, down to the very orderlies, was 
feeling below par. 



CHAPTER XI 

UP THE TENNESSEE 

About tKe 13th or 14th of March, Grant was restored 
to his command, "let loose" as it were, to start on that 
career of destruction of the Confederacy, which ended 
at Appomattox, Va., April 9, 1865. Once in command 
of the new levies and reinforcements which were pour- 
ing up the Tennessee, he made arrangement to go up 
with his staff immediately. The water in the river at this 
time was very high, fully fifty feet above the low water, 
or ordinary level of the river. The forts and the fences, 
erected by the enemy at various points, were, therefore, 
untenable in most instances. Our vessels and gunboats 
commanded them. Then, too, the width of the river 
had been enormously increased, and dry banks were so 
far removed, that the enemy could find no vantage 
ground from which to annoy our transports. The flood 
of water swept down with irresistible force, carrying 
away small houses, mills, sheds, lumber, trees and every- 
thing which could float. Navigation for our heavily 
laden boats was therefore somewhat difficult. Some- 
times, at nights, our boats would be carried by the waters 
into the roads, stick there until daylight, and then have 
to be cut out with axes, so that they could find their 
way back into open stream. However, by great care 
and watchfulness, all of the transports, from eighty to 
a hundred in number, were successfully conducted to 
Savannah, Tennessee, and to Pittsburgh Landing, a few 

151 



152 Personal Memoirs of John H, Brinton 

miles above on the opposite shore, soon to receive such 
bloody notoriety. Nearly all of the enemy's gunboats 
had been captured or destroyed. The one or two which 
had escaped and gone up small creeks, were neutralized 
by our own war vessels. 

About the middle of March, our headquarters moved 
up the Tennessee River. We were received with great 
joy by many of the inhabitants, and it seemed very 
strange once more to see the old flag hoisted on im- 
promptu flag poles, and to hear the loud cheers of the 
poor, upon the banks. The people had been hardly 
treated. The men had been dragged ofif, often marched 
at the tail of the cart, to the southern armies, and their 
homes had been ransacked for supplies. Whatever 
might have been the case in other portions of the South, 
it was unquestionably true that a strong and genuine 
Union feeling existed along the banks of the river in 
Hardin and McNairy Counties. 

At Savannah, our boat rested. Here we found that 
General C. F. Smith had established his headquarters 
in a small house, not very far from the landing. While 
we lay at the landing, I spent a good deal of time on 
shore, and saw something of the inhabitants. I remem- 
ber one family which was 'secesh' to the back-bone. It 
consisted of five daughters and two sons, the latter 
away in the rebel army. I soon became quite intimate 
with the young ladies, and after a while they would 
sing to me their Secession songs. 

One was: 

"Wait for the wagon, the dissolution wagon, 
And we'll all take a ride." 

Another : 

"To arms, to arms in Dixie land." 



Up the Tennessee 153 

Another, and this was the most favorite one with 
them: 

"And, one, two, three, we'll crush them !" 

I remained here until the 22nd of March, 1862. A 
great amount of sickness existed at this time among the 
troops, malaria, dysentery, typhoid; and in fact all the 
diseases partook more or less of the typhoid type. I was 
fighting all the time to obtain proper food, medicines, 
and medical supplies. Fresh meat was in great demand, 
and although I knew well the commissary of subsist- 
ence. Major Leland, one of the famous Leland brothers, 
hotel proprietors of New York City, it was only by 
positive threats of preferment of charges, that I could 
succeed in procuring the necessary fresh food for our 
sick. So pressing was the demand for all of these 
necessities, that General Grant determined to send me 
to St. Louis to procure what I could by personal inter- 
view and request from General Halleck. The follow- 
ing was General Grant's order in his own handwriting: 

"Headquarters, District of Tennessee, 

Savanna, March 22, 1862. 
SPECIAL ORDER 
No. 32. 

Surgeon J. H. Brinton will proceed to St. Louis, Mo. 
without delay, and procure through the Medical Director 
and Purveyor of the Department, the necessary medical 
stores and supplies for the growing wants of this District 
and return. 

• By order, 

U. S. GRANT, 

Maj. Gen, Comg." 



154 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

In obedience to this order, not a very agreeable one, 
I started by boat for St. Louis, down the Tennessee and 
Ohio and up the Mississippi Rivers. I had a rather 
strange meeting on the boat. As we were nearing St. 
Louis, a long-haired, shabby, lank individual, looking 
wonderfully like a Southerner came up to me, and said, 
"How d'ye do, Dr. Brinton?" I thanked him, and said, 
"Who are you?" The answer was, "A spy." I started, 
and asked him if there was not a certain risk in openly 
avowing such a dangerous calling. "Not at all," he 
said, "You won't betray me." I asked him how he 
knew me. He said, "Do you remember many years ago 
in company with Camac, Heyward and others, dissect- 
ing a long negro subject at the Jefferson College? I 
was one of the others," he said. He asked me if a 
young man named DaCosta was not a friend of mine. 
Then he said, "I am from West Chester (or Chester) 
County; I came out to Memphis, Tenn., to settle, and 
practice my profession. When the war broke out I was 
getting along nicely, and had married. I was called an 
abolitionist and driven away. My poor wife was turned 
out of the town without shelter. Her baby was born 
by the roadside. Mother and child both died. Then I 
swore vengeance on the Southern cause. I let my hair 
grow and turned spy. I have done them a world of 
harm, and will go on doing it. I do not care for my 
own life, if I can only hurt the enemy." I asked him 
where he had been last. "With Pillow's command," 
said he. "I had the clothes of a young Virginian of- 
ficer, who was killed in the east, and I have passed my- 
self off for him, and have been some days in camp 
down the river. But they became suspicious, and I 
have come up to report to Halleck." When I saw 
Halleck afterwards, I told him of this man, and I after- 



Up the Tennessee 155 

wards learned from some headquarters source that his 
story was a true one. 

On my arrival at headquarters, I reported to the 
Medical Director and General Halleck on March 28th. 
The latter listened to all I had to say, and told me he 
would do the best he could for me. On my way to 
St. Louis, I had stopped at Cairo, and had obtained 
from the Medical Director, Surgeon Simons, additional 
facts as to the deficiencies, and also as to the hospital 
resources of the District of Cairo. Returning from 
St. Louis, I stopped at Cairo, and was there on the 31st 
of March, detailed on a board to examine into certain 
alleged abuses at Mound City Hospital. 

The battle of Pittsburg Landing or Shiloh Chapel 
occurred on April 6th and 7th, 1862. At that time, I 
was on board duty from which I was immediately re- 
lieved, and ascended the river to Pittsburg Landing to 
report. On my way up the river, we passed one or two 
hospital steamers coming down. They were crowded 
with wounded, additional accommodations having been 
established by the pitching of the hospital tents upon 
their upper decks. On arriving at Pittsburg Landing, 
I found a busy scene. On Sunday, the 6th, the great 
battle of Shiloh, or Shiloh Chapel had been fought, the 
enemy having attacked our army in their camp, and 
driven them well back. Late in the afternoon, General 
Buell with the Army of Ohio had arrived. The army 
bivouacked in the rain during the night. Early in the 
morning, on Monday the 7th, Grant ordered a general 
advance along the whole line. The enemy fell back, 
at first slowly, afterwards rapidly, and retreated to his 
works at Corinth. His dead and many of his wounded 
were abandoned. About this time, Surgeon Simons, 
U. S. A., came up from Cairo, and for a short time 



156 Personal 3Iemoirs of John H. Brinton 

discharged the duties of Medical Director of General 
Grant's army of the Tennessee. Before long, on April 
24th, he was relieved and ordered to report for duty at 
Cairo. At the same time, I received the following order : 

"Headquarters Department of the Mississippi, 
Pittsburg Landing, Tenn., April 24, 1862. 

SPECIAL FIELD ORDERS 
No. 26. 

Brigade Surgeon Brinton will perform the duties of 
Medical Director of General Grant's Army until Surgeon 
Simon's return. 

By order of Major Genl. Halleck, 
And 

C. Kemper, 

Asst. Adj. Genl." 
Surgeon Brinton. 

I acted as Medical Director for a little time until the 
coming of old Dr. McDougal, U. S. A., who had arrived 
toward the end of April, and who acted as the Medical 
Director of the Armies of the Tennessee. His office 
was on the headquarters' boat at the landing. I re- 
mained with Dr. McDougal until the 2nd of May, when 
he sent me to General Halleck's headquarters in the field, 
to represent him. My title was "Medical Director in 
the field"; my duty to report to him and keep him in- 
formed. General Halleck came from St. Louis about 
April nth or 12th, and assumed chief command of the 
Armies of the Tennessee, of the Ohio (under Buell), 
and of the Mississippi (under Pope). This large joint 
consolidated army was sometimes spoken of as "The 
Army of the Tennessee," or "The Armies of the Ten- 
nessee." 



Up the Tennessee 157 

General Halleck's headquarters were not very far re- 
moved from the ''Landing" on a high bluff. During 
the time I was at the "Landing," I lived on General 
Grant's headquarters boat. At first, as can be seen from 
my orders, I was with Medical Director Simons, and 
afterwards with Medical Director McDougal. By each 
one of these I was treated with the greatest kindness. 
During my stay with these gentlemen, I was very busy. 
I occupied a sort of inspection position. My duties were 
to ride from camp to camp, to visit the hospitals, to 
inform myself of their wants. If anything was wrong, 
I would look into and report it to my chief. I had a 
great deal to do in the matter of transportation, and in 
getting the sick and wounded to the hospital boats, and 
in seeing that they were started in as good condition as 
possible. 

In all this apparent turmoil, many incidents of interest 
occurred. In the pages on the fight of Belmont, Mo., 
I have spoken of a Captain Polk, of the Southern service. 
He was a nephew of Bishop General Polk, who had for- 
merly been educated at West Point, and then, having 
entered the Episcopal Church, had later been consecrated 
Bishop. Captain Polk, I met on a flag of truce, sent 
from Cairo to Columbus. He and I quite fraternized, 
and he asked me to promise that in case he should be 
hit at any time, and would let me know, that I would 
come to him, bring him in our lines, and take care of 
him. And so it happened. About the 14th or 15th of 
April, he did send me word that he had been hit in the 
leg, was completely disabled, and was lying at a Con- 
federate hospital, some seven or eight miles away from 
Shiloh within the southern lines. He asked me to come 
with an ambulance, and bring him into our lines, where 
he could be well cared for. I placed the matter before 



158 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

General Grant, told him of my former promise, and 
asked his permission to go with a truce flag and bring 
Polk in. This he declined, but finally consented that I 
should take an ambulance, stretcher, and one or two 
hospital attendants, and go absolutely unarmed, at my 
own risk, as it were, but with the express stipulation that 
if I should bring in the wounded man, he would be re- 
garded as a prisoner of war. 

So on the i6th of April I went after him, riding by 
the side of the empty ambulance, without any white 
flag. I soon passed our picket lines, and entered into 
the lonely neutral country beyond. It was very lonely, 
and so quiet, that even the birds seemed to be afraid to 
sing. After a while, I caught sight of the enemy's 
pickets and someone advanced and inquired if we were 
the "Doctor's party." On my affirmative, he said that 
he had been sent to meet us, and to take us to the little 
hospital where Polk, I think they called him Major, was. 
I went there and found him. He was most glad to see 
us, welcomed us to the hospital, gave us an excellent 
dinner, with some delicious fresh butter, which had been 
sent to him by his wife. I explained to him that I 
would take him to our hospital boats, and do the best 
that I could for him, but although he would come volun- 
tarily, he still would be a prisoner. "All right," he said, 
and sticking his hand into his pocket, and pulling out a 
roll of notes, he added, "See here are a lot of Lincoln's 
pictures; I'll get along." So as it was time to return, 
his friends lifted him carefully into the ambulance, put 
in some vegetables and fresh butter, and I started off. 
The Confederates passed us through their pickets, and 
took leave of us, with many expressions of good will. 
Then I took him to the hospital boat under Dr. Turner's 
care, and here I left him, with instructions that he 



Up the Tennessee 159 

should be kept on the boat for the present. He remained 
for a trip or two, when finally the fact was discovered 
by the patriotic citizens of Evansville (or some town 
on the river), who, on hearing that a wounded rebel 
major was being accommodated on board a hospital boat, 
forcibly carried him to a U. S. hospital. I heard that 
his leg was afterwards amputated, but that he had re- 
covered. I have never seen or heard of or from him 
since. 

This ride afforded me an admirable chance of seeing 
the extreme limits of a battle field, and the track of the 
enemy's retreat. The roads were all in a bad condition, 
the rain had been heavy after the battle, and the artillery 
and baggage trains had cut deep ruts. 

During my stay at the "Landing," I was constantly 
dispatched on detached duty. On the 25th of April, 
1862, I was sent by General Grant on a tugboat to 
Savannah, Tennessee, twenty miles below, to see Gen- 
eral C. F. Smith, who had been very sick, and who was 
reported to be sinking. I found him unconscious and 
moribund, and during the night he died. He was said 
to have been perhaps the handsomest man in the army, 
erect, six feet four in stature. He was fond of the 
army, was universally esteemed, and left the reputation 
of a good and faithful soldier. In the execution of 
duty, he knew no friend, but duty over, he was a most 
genial commander. 

My old friend Dr. Henry S. Hewitt, used to tell the 
following of him. On one occasion late at night, Hewitt 
and he were engaged in a fierce discussion on theological 
points, and notably, on Purgatory. The utility of such a 
state was stoutly challenged by the General. "Why, 
Doctor," he said, "do you mean to say that I shall ever 
go to Purgatory?" "General," was the answer, "the 



160 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

time will come when you will die, will go up to Heaven's 
ga e and claim admittance." 'Who comes?' St Peter 
will demand^ % Charles F. Smith, Major General of 

Sill % T ^T' '""'"^ ^°" p^^^^^ - p-p- 

stage? _ No, I come direct, and plead my mortal life 
and claims. 'General,' will be St. Peter's answer 'I 
know you well; I know your life; you have been a spot- 
less citizen, an obedient son, a kind and loving father 
an affectionate and tender husband; you have been a 
brave soldier, a true patriot, a gallant and distinguished 
general; but General, you, of all others, should know 
that discipline must be preserved, and that you must 
spend a few days in Purgatory.' " As this climax was 
reached, the General in surprise and admiration drew 
himself up against the door of the stateroom, which 
yielded to his weight, and he stumbled backwards land- 
ing in his berth, muttering strangely, "So discipline must 
be preserved, and I must spend a few days in Purgatory 
bt. Peter thinks so." ' 

I remember, too, another amusing incident about 
General Smith in which Sheridan (of whom I will have 
more to say m the next chapter), and I, and some 
amazing mint juleps, all played a part. It happened that 
as Sheridan and I were riding together one afternoon, 
he checked his horse and began sniffing. "I smell mint " 
said he, "we must find it," and he did and returned to 
camp with a generous supply. That night, we, or rather 
he, made mighty juleps, greatly appreciated by those who 
participated. Someone said, "How old Smith would 
enjoy one." Now, General C. F. Smith was asleep in 
his tent at the time, and it was not well to disturb him 
but I volunteered and the julep was made. I went to 
his tent, separated the hangings, and reached in my 
arm, holding the tumbler at full length. Smith had been 



Up the Tennessee 161 

reading, and was half asleep, the candle flickering on 
the campstool at the head of his cot. The noise roused 
him, he raised himself on his elbows, anathematized his 
disturber, and then catching sight of the glass, crowned 
with green, he stared and stared. Finally the great truth 
burst upon him. "By G — this is kind," he said, and 
sliding from beneath the coverings, he crept slowly for- 
ward, grasped the glass, and muttering, "Kind indeed!" 
hurried back to his bed. But he never found out who 
did it. 



CHAPTER XII 

AFTER SHILOH WITH HALLECK 

About the 2nd of May, 1862, General Halleck deter- 
mined to move out in command of the army, to the 
front, wherever that might be found, in the direction 
of Corinth, the intersection of the two great railroads. 
Dr. McDougal being almost too old to go into the field, 
and there being much for him to do at Pittsburg Land- 
ing, he determined to send me with General Halleck's 
headquarters as a medical director in the field, with 
instructions to keep him informed of all matters of 
medical interest which might take place. Accordingly 
I started to report at headquarters, and was ordered to 
come with them. On making my few preparations, and 
returning, I found that the headquarters had already 
moved. The tents had nearly all been struck, the ground 
was littered with empty boxes, cans and bottles. The 
only officer I could see was a little man with black hair, 
and rather scant beard and mustache, who was flitting 
about vigorously doing something or nothing, I could 
scarcely tell which. I entered into conversation with 
him. He said his name was Sheridan, Captain Sheridan, 
and that he was a sort of headquarters quartermaster, 
to look after the staff comforts. He did not seem to 
have a very exalted opinion of his duties, rather regard- 
ing himself as a fifth wheel. He inquired as to my name, 
rank and duties, and I think remarked that my own 
position and duties were as vague and shadowy as his 

162 



After Shiloh With Halleck 163 

own, as neither of us had distinctive position or abiding 
place on the staff. "Who are you going to mess with, 
and how will you live when you get there?" he asked 
me. "I am sure, I don't know," I said. "Then, let's 
live together," said he. "We'll join our mess kits. I'll 
find the transportation, and we will do the best we can. 
Do you think you could get a bit of ice from your med- 
ical resources?" he asked me. I said yes, that we had 
more than we could use. "Good, get a wagon load, and 
I'll find four animals to pull it, so we'll start house- 
keeping with an ice house." And so began my acquaint- 
ance with Sheridan, Philip H. Sheridan, who figured 
so largely in the after conduct of the war. And here 
I might say that either on this day or the next, he broke 
his wrist as he was mounting, his horse jumping for- 
ward when Sheridan's left foot only was in the stirrup. 
He was jerked off and forward and in falling fractured 
his wrist, I think the left, an oblique fracture of the 
radius just above the wrist joint. The top of a cigar 
box, a little triangular block, a chip left by the axe, where 
a tree had been cut down, and a bandage served to dress 
it. It made an excellent cure. Sheridan was anxious 
that no one should know what the injury was, or that 
it had occurred while he was mounting his horse. And 
so no one ever knew how Captain Sheridan sprained his 
arm. 

And so we arranged that Sheridan and I should mess 
together. I rode out after the headquarters with my 
negro servant ; the rain poured in torrents, and the road 
was in dreadful condition. Just before reaching the 
plateau at Monterey, where the headquarters camp was 
to be pitched, I came to a little frame building used as 
a small hospital. Here I found General Halleck and 
his chief of staff. The latter was evidently uncom- 



164 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

fortable. He was always called ''Miss Nancy," and dis- 
liked any exposure. His ride in the rain, the mud and 
the general discomfort of all surroundings had been 
too much for him; he was completely upset, and was 
nosing around for creature comforts, when I found 
him under pretence of finding something for General 
Halleck. Confidentially, he spoke to me on the subject, 
and I said that I would see what might be the resources 
of the medical department. The doctor in charge of 
the hospital was an excellent quick-brained fellow. In a 
few moments he had a fine steak broiled, with plenty 
of gravy, potatoes and mustard. This I sent to the 
famished Generals, who were good enough to devour 
it in silent majesty, and afterwards expressed to me 
their admiration, and wonder as to how such a dish was 
improvised. 

After a while we settled down in camp, and I found 
myself ensconced in an excellent wall or officer's tent, 
side by side with Sheridan. And strange as it seems 
now, I was the ranking officer, and so my bunk was 
the highest up. 

General Halleck treated me very kindly while I was 
on his staff. He seemed to regard me as sort of a 
literary character, an opinion based upon the fact that 
I received every week, by the headquarters mail, my 
number of the London Punchy which the General en- 
joyed as much as I did, and read regularly. I had for 
years been accustomed to read Punch every Sunday 
afternoon at the office of my dear old friend. Dr. Charles 
S. Boker. When I went off to the war, he thoughtfully 
and most kindly remembered it, and for a long time 
Punch followed me to the "Headquarters in the Field," 
and indeed until I reached the east again. 

General Halleck's headquarters remained at Monterey, 



After Shiloh With Halleck 165 

an imaginary cross-road's blacksmith shop, until May 
15th, when they were moved forward four or five miles 
to a point at the Corinth road, just where it crosses the 
Mississippi line, and close to Corinth, Mississippi, in 
and around which the enemy were said to be strongly 
posted. General Grant's headquarters were close to 
those of Halleck's. Grant, nominally second in com- 
mand, had at this time no real duties, and no immediate 
command. His position was an anomalous one, and 
under which he greatly chafed. 

I remained on General Halleck's staff until the twenty- 
fourth or twenty-fifth of May, when I left for Washing- 
ton. During those days, my life was a very pleasant one. 
I was in general medical superintendence of the army 
in the field and it was my duty to keep my chief, 
Dr. McDougal, the Medical Director of the Army, ad- 
vised of all that was going on in our department. Then, 
too, I had to see in a general way to the care of the 
wounded and sick. For this purpose, I directed the 
establishment of a large field hospital at Monterey with 
a capacity of from one to two thousand beds. 

As I have said, Sheridan and I messed together, and 
saw a good deal of each other. I frequently rode with 
him, and he was forever proposing that we should take 
a little ride to see the land, as he would say, "It is 
always a good thing to get the lay of the country." 
Many a little thing we picked up in this way. 

I was very kindly treated on this staff, and have a 
pleasant recollection of Col. Kelton, the Adjutant Gen- 
eral, and Colonel Thorn, the Engineer. General Halleck, 
too, interested me greatly. I had formed, I hardly know 
how, a very high idea of his military abilities. I thought 
he was a really great man. I suppose I had been more 
or less influenced by his military nickname "Old Brains." 



166 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

He had a large head and a thoughtful expression. He 
seemed quick intellectually, with acute perceptive facul- 
ties. In speaking, he went at once to the heart of the 
topic under discussion, and his questions were direct, 
to the point, and rapidly put. He wore a big conical 
hat, and he talked like an able man. Physically, he was 
somewhat inert; he was fond of good living, and of 
good wine, — notably of hock. After dining, he was 
often sleepy. From my after knowledge of him, I think 
that at first I overestimated him. I saw a good deal of 
and attended him in one or two slight attacks of illness. 

About the 3rd of May, I received an order to report 
at Washington for special duty, but on the i6th, I was 
released from duty on this order, by a counter order 
bearing the private endorsement of Dr. McDougal as 
follows: "The Medical Director tenders his congratu- 
lations to Brigade Surgeon Brinton. Will be glad to 
hear from him." 

Imminence of battle was responsible for this change 
of detail. Military affairs, however, dragged along 
slowly without much change. Our lines were slowly 
advanced and daily contracted more and more around 
Corinth, a rifle pit and embankment being thrown up at 
evening on each day's forward move. A battle, a great 
one, I mean, was daily expected, but which with great 
regularity did not take place. About the 22nd or 23rd 
of May, I heard from Washington that I was expected 
there, and on the 23rd I received a telegram, directing 
me "to obey the order of May 3rd, directing me to 
proceed to Washington." 

So I had my wish at last to get away from the west, 
and to go east. I had been dazzled by the idea of get- 
ting one of the recently created medical inspectorships, 
and of leaving the western armies. Had I only known 



After Shiloh With Halleck 167 

it, I was best off where I was. The western life, the 
western men, really suited me. I was among the men 
who were day by day making the nation's history, and 
who were destined to become the heroes of the war. In 
part, I felt this, but yet I did not realize it sufficiently. 
On one occasion. General Grant asked me how I would 
like to leave the Medical Department, and become one of 
his aides. I suppose I ought to have taken advantage 
of this offer, but my professional love was too strong, 
and I lost the chance of my life. Glad as I was to 
leave, I still felt a sort of grief at parting with those 
who in eight months' intercourse had become very much 
endeared to me, and with some of whom I had formed 
a friendship which lasted for years. 

I took with me from the army headquarters, or rather 
from Cairo, where I had been collecting them during 
my service in the west, to Philadelphia, a box of frag- 
ments of shot and shell and bullets, intending to illus- 
trate any course of lectures on military surgery which I 
might give. They passed by this order : 

"Headquarters, Department Mississippi, 

Camp Corinth Road, May 24th, 1862. 

Authority is hereby given to Brigade Surgeon Brinton, 
U. S. v., to ship a box containing shot and shell, etc., 
from Cairo to Philadelphia, Penna. The contents of said 
box have been collected by authority and for professional 
purposes. 

By order of Major Genl. Halleck, 

J. C. Kelton, Asst. Adjt. Genl." 

Under a like order from headquarters of the Depart- 
ment of the Cumberland, Nashville, a further quantity 
of shot, shell and projectiles, broken and mutilated 



168 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

weapons, and preparations of gunshot wounds were sent 
to Philadelphia, and now form part of my collection. 

And so I turned my back on the old staff, rode back to 
Pittsburg Landing, and to the steamer "Polar Star," 
the boat on which the Medical Director had his head- 
quarters. Here I remained a few hours finishing up my 
business affairs, chief of which was the sale of my 
big black horse. Strange to say, I did not lose on him, 
but absolutely realized his cost. He was a fine animal, 
and I had become quite used to him, and he to me. 
So I parted with poor old "Nig," and started down the 
river on the boat. 

I do not remember much of my journey east, except 
this, that my travel led through Philadelphia. How glad 
I was to see my Mother and sisters. Although I had 
been away from home only nine months, yet it seemed 
as many years. But there I was at last, thinking that 
my service in the west was over, but in military mat- 
ters, one can never foretell the future. I looked quite 
a soldier, and traveled with sword, saddle box, trunk and 
valise, just as if I were a man of importance. I was 
very warmly welcomed in Philadelphia ; men from the 
western regions were rare birds then in the east. We 
had been doing heavy fighting, and winning battles, but 
in the east the armies had not as yet got fairly into 
motion. 



CHAPTER XIII 

SURGICAL HISTORY OF THE REBELLION 
TO WASHINGTON. THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC 

In a very few days, I hastened to Washington in 
obedience to my orders from the War Department, and 
having reported to the Surgeon General, Dr. WilHam A. 
Hammond, received from the Adjutant General's office 
of the War Department, an order to serve on a board 
for the examination of candidates for the position of 
Brigade Surgeon. 

On the 4th of June, the Surgeon General handed me 
also the sub-order, telling me that a room would be 
assigned me in the Surgeon General's office. 

"Surgeon General's Office, 

Washington City, June 4, 1862, 
Sir:— 

In accordance with special orders No. 98, Adjt. Gen- 
eral's Office of May 3, 1862, directing you to report to 
the Surgeon General for special duty, you are assigned 
to duty in this office to prepare the Surgical History 
of the Rebellion. 

I am Sir, very respectfully, yr. obt. Servt. 

(Sgd) WM. A. HAMMOND, 

Surgeon General U. S. Army. 

Brig. Surg. J. H. Brinton, 
U. S. Vols. 

Washington, D. C." 
169 



170 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

On reaching Washington, I had gone at once to 
Willards Hotel, then the largest and best hotel in the 
city. It was crowded with officers and politicians, and 
was a busy center. At my first dinner, the cards of my 
colleagues on the examining board, Drs. Clymer and 
Warren Webster, were brought to me. The former, a 
Brigade Surgeon of Volunteers, was considerably older 
than myself, a Pennsylvanian by birth, who had practiced 
formerly in Philadelphia. He was a contemporary of 
Goddard, Gerhard and men of that age, and had been 
a Professor in the Franklin College, and Physician to 
the Blockley Almshouse. He was a man of the world, 
of considerable ability, and I subsequently came to know 
him quite well, and to like him. 

The appearance of Washington City contrasted 
strongly with that presented in July, 1861, when I saw 
it last. Then all was absolute confusion, chaos; now 
a certain sort of order or system was being inaugurated; 
the military elements were being brought into shape; 
the departments were being extended and developed in 
accordance with the work they had to do. The Army 
of the Potomac, as organized by McClellan, had moved 
down to the peninsula, and was about entering on its 
long bloody career. Government, the departments, gen- 
erals, soldiers, and civilians, were awakening to the 
magnitude of the task; politicians were alive to the 
chance of the future, and army contractors dreamed 
golden dreams. 

The Medical Department of the Army, which for the 
first few months of the war had shown almost im- 
becility, and which had been conducted on the basis of 
the army establishment of the Mexican War, had under- 
gone a change. An active man, Dr. Wm. A. Hammond, 
impulsive, it is true, but of far-reaching view, and san- 



Surgical History of the Rebellion 171 

guine temperament, had been raised to the office of Sur- 
geon-General, and had infused fresh Hfe and energy 
throughout the whole Department. Much has been said 
against him, heavy charges have been pressed, but from 
an intimate knowledge of the man, and his surroundings, 
I am convinced that much injustice has been done, and 
much undeserved obloquy has been cast upon him. He 
was not always wise or prudent; his ways of doing 
things were not always judicious; but he sought to 
make the Medical Department of our army efficient, 
and to render it capable of caring for the sick and 
wounded, and that, too, in no niggardly or tardy spirit. 

When he was first appointed as Surgeon-General, I 
was on the Tennessee River at Pittsburg Landing. 
Shiloh had been fought. Thousands of wounded and 
sick were lying on the ground, and unprotected. Of 
bedding and covering there was great scarcity, and trans- 
portation was insufficient. The Medical Department 
was at its wit's end, and almost frantic. On one after- 
noon, I sent (I think by Dr. McDougal's order), a piti- 
ful telegram to the new Surgeon-General, begging for 
God's sake aid for our wounded. Early the next morn- 
ing a telegram arrived from him, stating that on that 
afternoon ten thousand mattresses would start by Adams 
Express to Shiloh ; and they came with wonderful quick- 
ness. In a letter to me at Pittsburg Landing, May 23, 
1862, while I was in camp, near Corinth, on Halleck's 
staff. Medical Director McDougal wrote me: "Ham- 
mond is sustaining me nobly, for which I am thankful; 
I have not liked him heretofore, but I will never say a 
word against him again." 

Up to June, 1862, the Brigade Surgeons, of which I 
was one, formed a separate corps. They were created 
by the Act of Congress, approved July 22, 1861. This 



172 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

was the act calling for 500,000 volunteers. By the Act 
of Congress, approved July 2, 1862, it was enacted "That 
from and after the passage of this Act, Brigade Sur- 
geons shall be known and designated as Surgeons of 
Volunteers, and shall be attached to the General Medical 
Staff, under the direction of the Surgeon-General." 

During my first few days in Washington, I was busy 
hunting up accommodations. For a week or so, I re- 
mained at Willard's Hotel. I soon became tired of hotel 
life, however, and was glad to find for myself two rooms 
at 255 G Street, a convenient neighborhood. These 
were on the second floor, parlor and bedroom, and were 
very comfortable. My meals I continued to take at 
the hotel. I was now officially stationed in the Surgeon- 
General's office, and had a nice little office to myself, 
with book shelves and pigeon holes and unlimited official 
stationery, and the services of an orderly. I soon be- 
gan to grow into official importance (imaginary, of 
course), and to assume all the manners and pompous 
behavior,* which was considered the proper thing in 
a well-fed, well-paid, bureau officer. 

At this time, I was busy arranging in my mind the 
plan of my future "Surgical History of the War." It 
seemed to me then that my best course was to preface 
the professional matter with a sort of semi-historical or 
semi-military account or history of the military move- 
ments. I hoped thus to convey some idea of the cir- 
cumstances attending and influencing the medical and 
surgical treatment of our sick and wounded, to describe 
the condition of the soldier during each campaign, his 

*In reading the manuscript of this volume, Dr. Mitchell, the life- 
long friend of the subject of these memoirs, interpolated after the 
word "pompous," an old friend's kindly and illuminating comment 
in the form of two penciled words, "Oh never." — Ed. 



Surgical History of the Rebellion 173 

physical surroundings, his marchings, his state of health, 
the general character of the action in which he might 
have been wounded, the character of the field hospitals 
and transportation, in fact, the hygienic conditions of the 
soldiers, as far as I could ascertain them, so that future 
readers might learn something of the men in health as 
well as in disease. 

I did not suppose that I ever could really carry out 
this idea, but my intention was to do my best. The re- 
ports of wounds, in the early part of the war, were 
meager in the extreme. "Vnlnus Sclopeticum or Gun- 
shot wound" was the one great comprehensive category 
in which all gunshot injuries were embraced. No classi- 
fication was attempted, and in fact, little, if any, real 
information of a precise character was furnished. The 
evils of the system were soon discovered, and before long 
attempts were made to create a better system of reports, 
with the returns of wounded and sick, to which I shall 
have occasion to refer frecjuently hereafter. 

My duties on the Medical Examining Board, convened 
at Washington, were somewhat confusing, but not yet 
onerous. We met daily at lO o'clock in a big room, 
just where Pennsylvania Avenue turns, for the examina- 
tion of candidates for the position of Surgeon of Volun- 
teers. I was the President of the Board, Dr. Clymer 
was the second in rank, and Dr. Warren Webster was 
the recorder or secretary. We had a long table covered 
with papers, and one or two fierce-looking orderlies. Of 
course, we were all in full uniform. Our examination 
was chiefly written. The candidates were furnished 
with plenty of paper, pens and ink, and then passed the 
time as comfortably as they could until three o'clock, 
in answering our questions. A great many came be- 
fore us. Some were well prepared; some were not. 



174 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Quite a number failed to pass, until finally we were 
indirectly informed by the Secretary of War, the "dread- 
ful Mr. Stanton," that he wanted more doctors, "and 
that if we didn't pass more, our Board would be broken 
up." So under this cogent military reasoning, our stand- 
ard was lowered, and more surgeons were obtained. I 
think our system of examination was not altogether per- 
fect, for after-observation convinced me that many men 
who passed high in our examination did not prove very 
efficient military surgeons, while some who did not do so 
very well before us, proved themselves afterwards able 
and satisfactory officers, professionally and otherwise. 

On the 3rd of July, 1862, I received an order from 
the Surgeon-General, Dr. Wm. A. Hammond, to 
accompany him to Fortress Monroe. The Army of the 
Potomac under General McClellan had advanced against 
Richmond, and then, crossing the Chickahominy River, 
had fallen back to the James River, and had encamped 
"in safety" at what was known as Harrison's Landing 
or Bar. It had reached this point, June 30 and July i, 
1862, and vigorous efforts were being made to re-estab- 
lish the organization, and to repair the losses caused by 
the Seven Days' Battle, during which severe battles had 
taken place at Fair Oaks, Gaines' Mill, White Oak 
Swamp, Charles' City Crossroads, Ellerson's Mill, Mal- 
vern Hill and elsewhere. In fact, the whole Hne of re- 
treat from the Chickahominy to the James River had 
been a scene of struggle and bloodshed. 

The Surgeon-Generals' party. Dr. Hammond, Dr. 
Meredith, Dr. Clymer, and some others, whom I have 
forgotten, started from Washington for Baltimore. We 
were all in an ambulance, a two-horse dearborn wagon 
employed in the army and much used around the vari- 
ous military bureaus in Washington. I very well recol- 



Surgical History of the Rebellion 175 

lect the fun we all had when we picked up one of our 
party, Surgeon Meredith, U. S. V., at the door of a 
fashionable boarding-house in Washington. The ambu- 
lance had just moved off, when his young wife ap- 
peared on the doorsteps, and waving a silk umbrella 
over her head, excitedly shouted, "My dear, my dear, 
you have forgotten your umbrella! Take it, take it, it 
may rain before you get back !" Poor lady, it was long 
before she heard the last of it. 

After reaching Baltimore, a pleasant sail down the 
Chesapeake Bay brought us to Fortress Monroe in the 
early morning, where we landed and breakfasted at the 
Hygiea Hotel, which seemed full of officers and officers' 
wives. Here we spent some hours, and I had an oppor- 
tunity of going inside the fort, and examining the case- 
mates. 

Fortress Monroe, a stonework of great size, was, I 
believe the largest work of defence in the country. It 
had a great number of heavy guns in position, and was 
supposed to be almost impregnable, if fully manned and 
properly defended. Leaving Monroe, we took boat and 
sailed up the James River, passing the scene of the terri- 
ble fight between the rebel ram Merrimac and the U. S. 
fleet on the 8th of March, 1862. 

As we steamed up the James, the tops of the masts 
of the Cumberland and Congress could be seen above 
the water. We stopped at Jamestown, and I had a 
good opportunity to examine the old church and church- 
yard. This church, is, I believe, the oldest Episcopal 
Church in this country. It is, or rather was, rich in 
old tombstones with quaint inscriptions. These had 
been in remarkably good preservation until the advent 
of our troops, when many of them were wantonly de- 
faced. I often wondered why ^he old churches and 



176 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

yards in England had suffered in the Cromwellian period, 
but as I looked at the sacrilegious devastation of the old 
Jamestown grave stones, I felt that the answer lay 
before me. 

On our way up, we passed under Fort Powhatan, a 
fort of the enemy, high on the bluff, on the right bank 
of the river. This fort was constantly, or rather, at 
intervals, occupied by a light battery, who made a target 
of our passing vessels. The steamer in front of us was 
fired at, and the one behind us, but somehow or other 
we escaped. I hardly like to confess how unpleasantly, 
or let me say at once, how cowardly, I felt, as we neared 
that fort. It seemed so threatening, so dominating, so 
high above us, and the embrasures in the bank seemed 
so near. I was walking with a few friends on the deck. 
As we approached, one or two of them slipped down in 
the cabin; one I noticed changed his promenade to what 
might be called the "off" side of the boat. I felt terri- 
bly like going below, but I thought to myself, "Here 
I am in full uniform, glorious in bright buttons," for I 
was dressed as became a Surgeon-General's companion, 
and had on a brand new coat. "And here are soldiers 
on board, who can't go below, or get out of the way, 
and they will think me a coward, and so I must stay." 
So stay 1 did, and walked up and down the deck, and 
tried to look careless and indifferent; but, oh, how I 
did watch that fort to detect grey coats or the glimmer 
of steel and bronze, and how glad I was, when we got 
far, far away from Powhatan, out of range and past 
the turn of the river. 

Before long, we reached the landing at "Harrison's 
Landing." We disembarked, and the Surgeon-General's 
party went up to General McClellan's headquarters, 
which were pitched in a wood, not very far from the 



Surgical History of the Eehellion 177 

river. Here we found the Medical Director of the 
Army of the Potomac. When we first arrived at Harri- 
son's, everything was in a good deal of confusion. The 
army, which had arrived from the Chickahominy in a 
disordered and shattered condition, was being reorgan- 
ized and the troops were resting, and were being gath- 
ered into their proper commands. 

My own particular duties at this time were ornamental 
rather than useful. Drs. Clymer, Le Conte, and I were 
attached to the staff of the Surgeon-General, and with 
him, we went from point to point, inspecting here and 
there, and, in a general way supported the dignity of 
our chief. By General McClellan, I was personally 
kindly received, on the score of my cousinship, and my 
present comforts were looked after by Arthur McClel- 
lan, his brother, who was an aide on his staff. At our 
first interview, the General asked me a great many ques- 
tions in regard to General Grant, his habits, his sur- 
roundings, his marchings and battles. I spoke very 
freely to him, and told him a great many things, which, 
although they were strictly true, he seemed scarcely to 
credit, especially the matters which concerned the Donel- 
son and Shiloh fights. He repeated his questions, but 
I knew what I was talking about, and I stuck to my 
statements. The tent next to General McClellan's was 
assigned to me, during the few days I stayed at his 
headquarters. It was the one occupied by his father- 
in-law, General Marcy, who was just then away from 
headquarters. On my first night's stay. General McClel- 
lan's assistant adjutant. General Seth Williams, came 
and shared the tent with me. He repeated George's 
questions, and asked a great many more of the same 
character. He admitted that my answers surprised him 
greatly, and I know that I told him much about Grant 



178 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

that he had never heard before. I heard afterwards 
from some one intimate with General McClellan, that 
he hardly knew what to make of my statements. I 
remember that on the next day, my cousin Arthur 
McClellan said to someone in my hearing that the army 
was now safe, and I knew that generally around head- 
quarters, a good deal of satisfaction was being expressed 
at the changed state of affairs. 

During these three or four days, great efforts were 
being made to remove the wounded and disabled from 
the army. Some had previously been sent north from 
the Pamunkey River, and those who safely reached 
Harrison's Landing were hastily sent northward by the 
numerous and well-fitted transports and hospital ships, 
which were arriving daily. A great contrast existed, 
however, on the vessels intended for the transportation 
of the sick and wounded in the west and in the east, 
and struck me forcibly. In the west, the hospital boats 
were absolutely under the control of the Medical De- 
partment. They were boats for the sick and for none 
others, and were kept clean and in proper condition. 
In the east, on the contrary, they carried the sick and 
injured soldiers from the Army of the Potomac, but 
on their return trips, they were laden with stores, men 
or prisoners, and often when again used for hospital 
transportation, were filthy and unsuited for the purpose. 
This was, I believe, afterwards remedied, but at this 
time, the hospital transportations were defective, al- 
though from no fault of the Medical Department. 
Things were then in great confusion, and no one knew 
what to expect. A longer war was felt to be certain, 
and the first confidence of the North had been shaken. 
The Army of the Potomac was, however, safely en- 
trenched, and with twenty-one gunboats in the river! 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE surgeon-general's OFFICE 

On the 6th of July, I received orders to return to 
Washington, and arrived there on the 7th, and at once 
resumed my regular office duties, collecting material for 
the army surgical history, preparing new forms of re- 
ports of sick and wounded, and attending to the work 
of the examining medical board, which was in session 
in the latter part of July of this year. This board con- 
sisted of Surgeon Lewis A. Edward, U. S. A., Surgeon 
J. H. Brinton, U. S. Vols., and Assistant Surgeon J, J. 
Woodward and M. J. Asch, U. S. Army. 

The weather during this summer was very warm, and 
the Washington climate did not agree with me very 
well. I often remembered what old Dr. McDougal had 
told me, "When you go to Washington, look out for 
your liver." 

About July 23rd, General Halleck arrived from the 
West, and was appointed Commander-in-Chief. He was 
quite gracious to me, although I did not see very much 
of him. He lived on Georgetown Heights. 

On the first of August, 1862, I was directed by the 
Surgeon-General to arrange all specimens of morbid 
anatomy, both medical and surgical, which might have 
accumulated. These were to constitute the Army Medi- 
cal Museum. The foundations of this museum had for 
some time been contemplated. Thus in Circular No. 
2, it is directed as follows : 

179 



180 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

"Circular No. 2. 

Surgeon General's Office, 

Washington, D. C, May 21, 1862. 

As it is proposed to establish in Washington, an Army 
Medical Museum, medical officers are directed diligently 
to collect and to forward to the office of the Surgeon 
General, all specimens of morbid anatomy, surgical and 
medical, which may be regarded as valuable; together 
with projectiles and foreign bodies removed, and such 
other matters as may prove of interest in the study 
of military medicine or surgery. These objects should 
be accompanied by short explanatory notes. Each speci- 
men in the collection will have appended the name of 
the Medical Officer by whom it was prepared. 

WILLIAM A. HAMMOND, 

Surgeon General." 

The order to me to arrange the Museum was as 
follows : 

"Surgeon General's Office, 

Washington, Aug. i, 1862. 
Sir:— 

You are hereby directed to collect and properly arrange 
in the "Military Medical Museum" all specimens of mor- 
bid anatomy, both medical and surgical, which may have 
accumulated since the commencement of the Rebellion 
in the various U. S. hospitals, or which may have been 
retained by any of the Medical officers of the Army. 
You will also take efficient measures for the procuring 
hereafter of all specimens of surgical and medical in- 
terest that shall be afforded in the practice of the different 
hospitals. Should any medical officer of the Army de- 
cline or neglect to furnish such preparations for the 



The Surgeon-General's Office 181 

Museum, you will report the name of such officer to this 
office. 

Very Respty. Yr. Obdt. Servt., 

WILLIAM A. HAMMOND, 

Surg. Genl. 
Dr, Brinton, 

Surgn. U. S. Vols." 

In connection with this matter of the Army Medical 
Museum, it may be well for me to state just what I 
had to do with it. The first idea of an "Army Medical 
Museum" originated with Surgeon-General Hammond, 
and was by him communicated to the officers of the 
Army in Circular No. 2, which I have given. I told 
him, when I first saw him, that I had collected a good 
many bone specimens in the West, some of which I 
had lost, and some of which I brought home (now in 
my collection of gunshot wounds of bone). The order 
of August I St, to me, was the first step towards really 
putting this notion of an Army Museum into shape, and 
was a most welcome duty. My whole heart was in the 
Museum, and I felt that if the medical officers in the 
field, and those in charge of hospitals, could only be 
fairly interested, its growth would be rapid, and the 
future good of such a grand national cabinet would be 
immense. "By it the results of the surgery of this war 
would be preserved for all time, and the education of 
future generations of military surgeons would be greatly 
assisted. 

To help me in my work, hospital steward Schafhert 
and his son were assigned to duty with me. The elder 
Schafhert was an admirable bone cleaner and working 
anatomist. He had for a long time worked at the 



182 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

University of Pennsylvania under Dr. Leidy, and was 
an adept in preparing and mounting specimens for a 
museum. We at once went to work. I obtained for 
him amputated arms and legs from the Washington 
hospitals, and afterwards from those in the neighbor- 
hood; these he cleaned, prepared and mounted, and very 
soon the first specimens, the initial preparations of our 
new museum were ready, and made their official ap- 
pearance on the top of my desk, and on the shelves 
put up for the purpose in my rooms in the Surgeon- 
General's office, at first downstairs, and afterwards in 
the second-story room of the office on Pennsylvania 
Avenue, looking towards Riggs Bank. This room I 
afterwards relinquished to Medical Inspector General 
Perley, and was moved with my museum possessions 
into one or two of the small rooms of a second-story 
back building, on Pennsylvania Avenue, below the War 
Department, where quarters were assigned to Dr. Wood- 
ward and myself, then actually pushing on our medical 
and surgical histories of the war and compiling our 
reports of sick and wounded, a work demanding the 
services of many clerks. 

Before long Mr. Corcoran's art building, which had 
been fitted up by him for a picture gallery, was seized 
or occupied by the Government and turned over to the 
Medical Department for the Museum, and a small ap- 
propriation (of $5,000 I think, and afterwards $10,000) 
was passed by Congress for the support and extension 
of the museum. 

Corcoran's building was turned over to the Medical 
Department, June i, 186^. The following were the 
^ orders, which may convey some idea of the manner 
of doing things in those days: 



*N 



The Surgeon-GeneraVs Office 183 

"SPECIAL ORDER NO. ii6. 

Headquarters, Mily, Dist. of Washington, 

Washington, D. C, May 22, 1863. 
(Extract) 

II. The School House situated on H Street North 
between 13th and 14th Streets, owned by Mr. Corcoran 
is hereby taken possession of by the Government of 
the United States, and turned over to the Medical De- 
partment for the use of the Army Medical Museum. 

By command of 

MAJOR GENL. HITCHCOCK, 
JNO. J. SHERBORNE, 

Asst. Adjt. Gen. 
Surg. Genl. Hammond." 

"Surgeon General's Office, 

Washington City, D. C, 

June I, 1863. 
Sir:^ 

The building known as Corcoran's School House near 
Dr. Gurley's Church, together with its outbuildings 
thereto, having been turned over to this department by 
order of Secretary of War, you will take charge thereof, 
and make such alterations and repairs as may be neces- 
sary to fit it for the purpose of the army Medical Mu- 
seum. You will, however, avoid all useless alterations 
or expense. 

Very respy. Yr. Obd. Servt., 

JOSEPH R. SMITH, 

Acting Surg. Genl. 
Surgeon J. H. Brinton, 

Surgeon General's Office, 
Washington, D. C," 



184 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

"War Dept. Washington City, 

Sept. I, 1863. 
(Copy) 

Col. J. H. Barnes, 

Medl. Inspector Genl., 
Washington, D. C. 
Colonel : — 

The Secretary of War authorizes the transfer of the 
specimens from the room of the Surgeon General's Of- 
fice, to the Museum newly selected. 
Very respy. Yr. Obd. Servt. 

(Signed) JAS. A. HARDIE, 

Asst. Adjt. Genl. 
A true copy to 

Joseph K. Barnes, 

Medl. Inspector Genl." 

From the above it will be seen that the museum spe- 
cimens remained at the office of the Surgeon General 
under my immediate care (except medical specimens 
proper, under Assistant General Woodward's care), 
from the inception of the museum. I removed them 
to the Corcoran building, and was responsible for them 
and for the growth of the Museum during my stay in 
Washington. 

Schafhert and his son who prepared the specimens 
were borne on the Surgeon General's roster of employ- 
ees as hospital stewards, while soldiers, and men from 
the invalid corps, were detached as servants and addi- 
tional helpers and orderlies. In the meantime, with the 
funds appropriated, I was enabled under the instructions 
of the Surgeon-General to fit up good cases for the 
rapidly growing collection. The doors locked with 
bronze hands, which slid bolts at top and bottom, 



The Surgeon-GeneraVs Office 185 

modeled after the hands in the cases of my home office, 
originally belonging to Mr. George H, Boker, and 
bought by me from Dr. Chas. S. Boker, long after 
the war. These cases were gradually extended, until, 
before I left Washington in October, 1864, galleries 
had been erected, and the room or hall completely filled. 
The Museum, after Mr. Lincoln's assassination, was 
moved to Ford's Theater, and not long ago, I saw my 
old cases, altered, yet the same, still standing in the 
Army Museum, containing so many of the specimens 
once so familiar. 

One of the first additions to the Museum, was an 
"Assistant Curator," I being then also officially curator, 
who should superintend the work on the specimens, 
and the recording of their histories, which was dili- 
gently done by clerks appointed from the Surgeon-Gen- 
eral's office. Dr. Wm. Moss, who had entered the 
corps of Surgeon of Volunteers, was the first assistant 
curator, and on his resignation from the army, after his 
marriage, he was succeeded by my old student. Dr. 
Brinton Stone, who had become an Assistant Surgeon. 
Thus the Museum was cared for. 

Any account of the Museum would be incomplete 
without some description of how the specimens were 
obtained, and gathered up, and by what system they 
passed from their original possessors to the Museum. 
First of all, the man had to be shot, or injured, to be 
taken to the hospital for examination, and in a case 
for operation, to be operated upon. If all this were 
taking place in a city hospital, or a permanent general 
hospital, the bones of a part removed would usually be 
partially cleaned, and then with a wooden tag and carved 
number attached, would be packed away in a keg, con- 
taining alcohol, whiskey, or sometimes salt and water. 



186 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Then, when a sufficient number of specimens had 
accumulated, the keg would be sent to Washington and 
turned' over to the Army Museum, where the prepara- 
tions of the specimens would be finished, so that they 
could take their place upon the shelves. The memo- 
randa or histories of these specimens would in the mean- 
time have been forwarded to the Surgeon-General's 
Office, and after having been fitted to objects and their 
truthfulness assured, would be entered in the books of 
Histories of Specimens, preserved in the Museum, and 
under the care of the Assistant Curator. 

One of the chief difficulties at this time, was that of 
procuring truthful and full histories of the specimens. 
When these were derived from hospitals, where the 
patient had been under observation, it was possible to 
obtain a history of the case, especially where the medi- 
cal officer in charge of the hospital or bed felt a true 
professional interest in furnishing reliable data, and in 
contributing what he could to the common stock of 
surgical knowledge. It was one of my main objects 
in visiting the various hospitals, and generally the mili- 
tary medical centers, to develop as far as I could this 
interest in the Museum, to make its objects and ten- 
dencies known, and to lead all medical men, from the 
highest to the lowest, to know and be convinced that 
the fonnation, and foundation, of a great National Sur- 
gical and Medical Museum, was not for the collection 
of curiosities, but for the accumulation of objects and 
data of lasting scientific interest, which might in the 
future serve to instruct generations of students, and 
thus in time be productive of real use. 

Many of our Army Surgeons entered into the scheme 
of the Museum with great zeal and earnestness, but 
some few there were, and these mostly the least edu- 



The Surgeon-GeneraVs Office 187 

cated, who failed to see its importance. But in the 
course of time a belief in the importance and value of 
the growing Museum spread throughout the army, and 
an active and faithful co-operation was elicited from the 
medical staff generally. The publication of the first 
catalogue in January exerted a good effect, and the 
opening of the Museum to the public, and especially to 
medical visitors, was not without its influence. 

In the case of field hospitals, after great battles, it 
was at first difficult to get our system to work. The 
number of operations was so great, the medical force 
(I mean the intelligent skilled force), was compara- 
tively so weak, and overworked, that it seemed at first 
almost impossible to obtain from them the preparations 
we desired. It was hard enough to be worked day and 
night in those great surgical emergencies, accompanying 
fierce and protracted battles, and it really seemed un- 
just to expect the rough preparation, necessary to pre- 
serve for the Museum, the mutilated limbs. These were 
usually buried in heaps. To overcome all these difli- 
culties and to set an example, I visited frequently our 
battle-fields, as soon as the information was telegraphed 
to Washington. I then saw not only a great deal of 
active surgery, but I had the opportunity of showing 
practically to the operating surgeons, and to their assist- 
ant staffs, what it was that we really wanted, and how 
their part could be accomplished with the least amount 
of labor, and in the most satisfactory manner. Many 
and many a putrid heap have I had dug out of trenches 
where they had been buried, in the supposition of an 
everlasting rest, and ghoul-like work have I done, amid 
surrounding gatherings of wondering surgeons, and 
scarcely less wondering doctors. But all saw that I 
was in earnest and my example was infectious. By 



188 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

going thus from corps hospital to corps hospital, a real 
interest was excited as to the Museum work, and an 
active co-operation was eventually established. 

Early in January, 1863, I published under Dr. Ham- 
mond's order, a small catalogue of the Army Museum 
up to that time, showing a collection of 1,349 objects, 
of which 988 were surgical, 106 medical and 133 ex- 
tracted projectiles. This catalogue was as accurate as 
I could then make it. Its real object was to give credit 
to all medical officers contributing to the Museum. In 
fact, it did a great deal more; large numbers of prep- 
arations had accumulated in the Museum, the donors 
of which were not known. Very many specimens I 
had brought there from the battle-fields, collected by 
myself. These I put into the first catalogue, assigning 
them to such medical officers, as I could call to mind, 
and especially to those whom I knew to be lukewarm 
in Museum interests. The effect of the procedure was 
good. 

Once established, the Museum was rapidly enlarged 
and extended. A section of models was established, of 
ambulances and litter, of horse and mule transporta- 
tion of wounded, or transportation by railway and by 
boat, of hospital wagons and tents for the field, of 
tent hospitals, great and small, and of large general 
hospitals. All these w^ere shown as found in different 
sections of the country, in the West and East, in the 
front, and in the rear of active operations. 

The machinery to carry on the Museum was very 
simple. A full photographic outfit and the employment 
of a corps of artists was also ordered about this time, 
and did notable service in illustrating the museum spe- 
cimens. Artists were obtained by enlistment as hos- 
pital stewards, and were assigned to duty in the Surgeon- 



The Surgeon-General's Office 189 

General's office at the best pay a headquarters' detail 
could give. I had at this time a topographical artist 
to draw the maps for the history of the war, one or 
two water colorists, who would also paint in oil rapidly 
if required, and the bone-preparers, the Schafherts, 
father and son. At a later period, just before I left 
the Surgeon-General's office, the services of one or two 
photographers were obtained, and a studio and work- 
room was established at the Army Museum building. 

At this time the drafts ordered by the President had 
the effect of causing high local bounties to be ordered 
by the various counties and towns, throughout the 
"loyal" North. Thus a good artist could escape the 
hardships of a draft, pocket a large bounty, and insure 
a safe duty at high pay, by securing a place as "con- 
structive" hospital steward in the Surgeon-General's 
office. To secure such talent, I was sent by the Sur- 
geon-General to Philadelphia and New York, and by 
hunting around, I was so fortunate as to secure the men 
I wanted, after some little trial, and change. They 
were nearly all Germans, and although somewhat diffi- 
cult to manage, and perhaps a little obstinate, dis- 
charged their duty faithfully. 

As soon as the Museum was fairly established in its 
home, it began to attract attention. The public came 
to see the bones, attracted by a new sensation. Then, 
too, it often happened that officers and soldiers who 
had lost a limb by amputation would come to look up 
its resting place, in some sense its last resting place. I 
remember once seeing a florid-looking officer, a Colonel, 
I think, with a slight limp, busily hunting up a leg 
bone with a certain number, in the glass case. He 
evidently found what he wanted, and suddenly turning 
to a buxom-looking young woman at the other end of 



190 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

the room, he called to her in great glee, "Come here, 

Julia, come here, — here it is, my leg, No. , and 

nicely fixed up, too." And the daughter examined the 
specimen with much interest and apparent satisfaction. 
It was indeed, a nice, white shiny, varnishy prepara- 
tion. I thought at the time that it would be very doubt- 
ful if the gentleman's remaining bones would ever make 
so creditable an appearance. 

On another occasion, a soldier, a private, came, ex- 
amined the Museum, and with the help of the Assistant 
Curator, found his amputated limb. It seemed to him 
his own property and he demanded it noisily and per- 
tinacioiisly. He was deaf to reason, and was only 
silenced by the question of the Curator, "For how long 
did you enlist, for three years of the war?" The an- 
swer was, "For the war." "The United States Gov- 
ernment is entitled to all of you, until the expiration of 
the specified time. I dare not give a part of you up 
before. Come, then, and you can have the rest of you, 
but not before." He went away silently, wiser, but not 
convinced. 

So you see that even dry bones may be regarded from 
different points of view. Remember Mr. Dickens's im- 
mortal friends "Mr. Wegg," and "Mr. Venus." 

I can recall many other strange scenes which occurred 
in the course of my search for specimens. In one case, 
I was informed of a remarkable injury of a lower 
extremity. The man had died with the limb on and 
had been carefully buried by his comrades. For some 
reason or other, that specimen was worth having, but 
his comrades had announced their determination to pre- 
vent the doctors from having it. However, I thought 
I would try what I could do, so I visited his mess mates, 
explained my object, dwelt upon the glory of a patriot 



The Surgeon-GeneraVs Office 191 

having part of his body at least under the special guard 
of his country, spoke of the desire of the Surgeon- 
General to have that bone, with all such similar argu- 
ments I could adduce. My arguments were conclusive; 
the comrades of the dead soldier solemnly decided that 
I should have that bone for the good of the country, 
and in a body they marched out and dug up the body. 
I gravely extracted the bone and carried it off carefully; 
the spokesman of the party remarking gravely "that 
John would have given it to me himself, had he been 
able to express his opinion." 

The preservation of these articles coming from so 
many sources, demanded a large supply of alcohol. 
Upon official application, it was ordered by the Secre- 
tary of War that all liquor confiscated by the Provost 
Marshal in the District of Columbia should be turned 
over to the Museum for anatomical purposes. As a 
result of this order, an enormous amount of alcoholic 
beverages was poured into the Museum, everything 
from champagne to the commonest rum. Our side lot 
was piled with kegs, bottles, demijohns and cases, to 
say nothing of an infinite variety of tins, made so as 
to fit unperceived on the body, and thus permit the 
wearer to smuggle liquor into camp. Of all this sup- 
ply, Shafhert took charge. When the whiskey was 
strong enough for preservative purposes, he kept it in 
package; when it was not, it went into the still. This, 
under Schafhert's watchful care, ran incessantly, and 
furnished the Museum with a large amount of very fair 
alcohol, not only for putting up our specimens, but for 
furnishing the various depots in the Army where fresh 
specimens were being collected, so that they could be 
kept from decomposition, and reach the Museum in 
good condition. Our still was a success, occasionally 



192 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

it blew up, but never did any active harm. It was also 
used for the redistillation of sulphuric ether for clean- 
ing bones, but this was a somewhat risky process. 

It was not very long before this transit of whiskey 
and alcoholic liquors was detected by the railroad men 
and military guards stationed on the railroad over which 
my kegs and barrels passed. I soon found that the 
barrels leaked, and much less whiskey reached the col- 
lectors in the army than was sent from the Museum in 
Washington. A process of tapping had been practised, 
and a careful investigation showed that the packages 
had been bored into, the contents sampled, and the holes 
plugged. This had evidently been repeated over and 
over again on a single trip, so I determined to take the 
matter in hand. A tempting and attractive barrel was 
selected, and filled with a fair article of whiskey. Into 
this I placed some tartar emetic and the keg started on 
its travels from Acquia Creek Station. Shortly after- 
wards I had occasion to pass over the road when I 
found from the various officers that a day or two pre- 
viously a good many of the employees of the railroad 
had suffered from some stomach disturbance, nausea and 
vomiting. They said it was the water, of course. I 
had not put in too much tartar and emetic, just enough 
to act. After this, the barrels of the Army Museum 
were religiously respected, and ceased to leak. Years 
and years ago, but some time after this incident, I 
was making a small purchase from a sedate and re- 
spectable dealer in my own city. On hearing my name, 
he showed unusual interest in his new customer, in- 
quired if I had served in the old war, if I had ever 
been stationed at Washington. Had I ever marched 
over the Acquia Creek railroad? Had I ever had any- 
thing to do with the Army Museum? Had I ever sent 



i 



The Surgeon-General's Office 193 

whiskey barrels over the road? And then he asked 
gently if any leakage had occurred? Was there ever 
any complaint? And then he admitted that he had 
heard that by a gimlet and pipe stem, a successful 
tapping of those barrels had been made. He seemed 
rather to admire the ingenuity shown. He admitted 
that on one or two occasions the whiskey was pro- 
nounced very bad. 

Among our various lots of complicated liquor, occa- 
sionally we would get some very fine samples. I re- 
member a lot of cherry brandy that I set aside for a 
special purpose. I was often sent at short notice to 
the Army of the Potomac with orders to reach certain 
points or headquarters far remote from the railroad 
terminus. It was difficult to procure a horse at these 
times, often impossible, and I was at the mercy of the 
quartermaster, who was not always obliging to a strange 
medical officer. Now the 5th Regular Cavalry was 
serving in this army. It was a most gallant and favorite 
command, and was usually near headquarters, which, 
most often, was my objective point. Somehow or other 
an understanding arose between their officers and my- 
self that on my request at any time a trooper would 
be sent down to me as a guide, with a horse for myself 
to use during my stay, also an extra horse for luggage, 
which was understood to be a small keg of cherry- 
brandy. This tacit understanding soon became a fixed 
arrangement; it did me great good, and I trust did 
them no harm, and I am sure greatly facilitated public 
business. 

During my stay in Washington, the Museum was 
greatly on my mind, and I did all I could to assist its 
growth and to unite the co-operation of all the medical 
officers I could reach. At first, it was looked upon 



194 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

somewhat doubtfully; many regarded it as a joke al- 
most, but as time went on, it obtained a fine hold on 
the medical, official and congressional mind, and ap- 
propriations were annually made to it by Congress. 
The scope of the Museum, too, was enlarged. It was 
made to include models of nearly everything connected 
with military medicine, — thus, models of ambulances, 
litters, hospital cars, hospital knapsacks, medicine chests, 
operating-tables, and all the paraphernalia of field hos- 
pitals were obtained, as also full sets of bayonets, 
swords, projectiles of all kinds, field ammunition, and 
small arm projectiles, of which not less than eighty 
varieties were used during the war. These, when ar- 
ranged, were not only ornamental to the hall of the 
Museum, but were calculated to be of great use in the 
study of gunshot and other wounds. 

This Museum, which as I have stated, originated in 
the brain of Surgeon-General Hammond, became a suc- 
cess, and led up to much which was scarcely anticipated 
at its inception, such as a photographic gallery, and a 
bureau of art, in which colorists were employed for 
the reproduction of the various volumes of medicine 
and surgery, which afterwards for so many years were 
constantly issuing from the office of the Surgeon-Gen- 
eral. At the formation of the Museum, the work was 
entirely in my hands, but as specimens of a medical 
sort began to arrive, that division of the undertaking 
fell to Assistant Surgeon J. J. Woodward, U. S. A., a 
man of acquirements, energy and quickness. He was, 
moreover, an excellent artist and microscopist. The re- 
mainder of the work, that which pertained to the sur- 
gery of the war was in my department. 



CHAPTER XV 

FORTUNES OF WAR 

The greater part of August, 1862, was spent by me 
in museum work, getting ready fixtures, etc., and on 
the 23rd I went to Philadelphia in discharge of these 
duties. 

On the 26th of August, I received the following, 
sending me to Alexandria : 

"Surgeon General's Office, 

Washington, August 26th, 1862. 
Sir:— 

The Surgeon General directs that you report without 
delay to Surgeon J. Campbell, U. S. A. Medical Director, 
Military District of Washington, for duty in Alexandria, 
Va. 

The duties to which you are especially assigned are 
those of Medical Director of Transportation, to inspect 
the means of transportation for sick and wounded sol- 
diers, and supervise the arrangements made for their 
transportation to and from Alexandria and to and from 
the hospitals in that place. You will act as efficiently 
as may be in your power in conjunction with Surgeon 
Summers, U. S. A., to carry out the orders, which he 
has already received for the expansion of hospital ac- 
commodations in Alexandria. In performing your duties 
as Medical Director of Transportation, you will put your- 
self in communication with Medical Inspector General 
Parley, now with the Army of Virginia, and also with 

19s 



196 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

the necessary officers of the Quartermaster's Depart- 
ment. 

Very respectfully Yr. Obdt. Servt. 

By order of the Surgeon General, 

JOS. R. SMITH, 
Surgeon, U. S. A. 

Dr. J. H. Brinton, Surg, of Vols." 

It was just at this time that the series of battles 
were being fought between the army under General 
Pope and the Army of Northern Virginia, under Gen- 
eral Lee. The Army of the Potomac had been with- 
drawn from Harrison's Landing on the James to 
Acquia Creek and to Alexandria, and the greater por- 
tion of it for the time, passed under the command of 
General Pope in conjunction with his own Army of 
Virginia, which had hastily been gathered together by 
the order of the President, June 27th, 1862. With 
these joint forces, General Pope had met, and had en- 
deavored to hold in check, the Southern Army moving 
northward from Richmond under the direct command 
of General R. E. Lee. The fighting had continued 
during the latter days of August, during which the 
battles at Bristow, Manassas, Groveton, Chantilly, and 
elsewhere had occurred. These battles were often gen- 
erally designated as the "Second Manassas" or "Second 
Bull-Run." As a whole the result was greatly against 
the United States troops. Pope with his command being 
gradually forced backwards to the fortifications of 
Washington. 

At the time I arrived in Alexandria, the greatest con- 
fusion prevailed, vast numbers of wounded had found 
their way back to Alexandria, and the hospitals were 



Fortunes of War 197 

filled to overflowing. Transportation to and from the 
battle-fields via Fairfax Station was deficient. I at 
once put myself in touch with the railroad men, and as 
many of the wounded as possible were brought in. 

The battle-grounds were occupied by the enemy, and 
access to our captured hospitals was in a general way 
cut off. Finally, Medical Inspector Coolidge was al- 
lowed to pass within the enemy's lines, with certain 
supplies. Dr. Coolidge had, in ante-war times, been 
on terms of acquaintance with General Lee, and he made 
strenuous efforts to have such help as was possible, 
rendered to our wounded. Unfortunately, just at this 
time, a spirit of irritation existed among the Southern 
leaders, brought about possibly by unwise actions and 
orders of General Pope. The Confederate government 
had retaliated and issued orders, declaring that he or 
his commissioned officers were not entitled to be con- 
sidered as prisoners of war, etc. The ordinary humane 
considerations as to the wounded were therefore un- 
fortunately disturbed, and it became hence a matter of 
difficulty to render very efficient aid to our own 
wounded, who had been left on the field.' 

Our surgeons, it is true, had remained with their 
injured, but their medical supplies had been captured 
and largely used. In truth, one cannot blame the Con- 
federate medical officers for laying hands on these hos- 
pital supplies, of which their own sick and wounded 
were so much in need. At last, by persistency and by 
personal influence, Medical Inspector Coolidge did suc- 
ceed in obtaining from the Southern commander, an 
amelioration of the strictness of their order which for 
a while pressed so heavily upon our wounded of the 
"Second Bull Run." 

From the reasons which I have thus given, it can 



198 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

be understood that few, if any, regular ambulance trains 
were at first permitted to be run to the field. Those 
who came were those who could see to their own trans- 
portation, and it was astonishing how many could do 
this under the spur of capture and imprisonment by the 
enemy. 

My work in preparation for, and the reception of, 
our poor fellows was incessant, and we were very short- 
handed. I see from my letters that for three nights 
and two days I could not lie down, but was on my feet, 
receiving and distributing the wounded as they arrived. 
The work was incessant and required some judgment 
and discretion in its performance. The boat trans- 
portation to Washington was miserably insufficient, 
nearly all the steamers were busy in bringing troops 
up the Potomac, and scarcely any were at the disposal 
of the Medical Department. I was particularly cau- 
tioned as to the character of the cases to be sent to 
Washington, and was instructed to see to this myself, 
which I did to the best of my ability, — and some queer 
characters of soldiers I met. 

I remember as I stood at the gangway of a boat, 
passing the wounded on, that a queer, drunken, jolly 
Irish infantryman staggered up to me : 

"And doesn't his honor, the Major, want a good guard 
to keep all these spalpeens off." His arm had been taken 
off at the shoulder joint, as I saw. "And, who are 
you?" I said. "Sure," he answered, "a poor Irishman, 
who had his arm cut off at Fairfax this morning, and 
who's walked all the way in with his gun and his knap- 
sack, and who's managed to git a little drunk, as your 
honor sees, but who can all the same stand a good 
guard." So I put him on board for Washington. 

It is almost impossible to convey an idea of the con- 



Fortunes of War 199 

fusion and demoralization of everyone at and near 
Washington at that time. All had failed and defeat 
was everywhere; there seemed to be no one who could 
be trusted, no one who could make headway against 
our Southern enemy. From a military point of view, 
there seemed to be little hope. And such odd things 
were being done. One little trick of our Secretary of 
War, Mr. Stanton, I will refer to. 

Whenever we were badly beaten and when popular 
feeling was dissatisfied, Stanton was in the habit, at 
his own instance, of issuing or peremptorily directing 
the issuing of, an appeal to the North, in the first place 
for lint and bandages, and secondly, for surgeons and 
nurses. As a natural result, the Surgeon-General's 
office would be flooded with boxes of linen scrappings 
and home-made bandages, which would be piled away 
in the stables and yards, or sent off where really not 
wanted, inasmuch as the articles themselves were usu- 
ally not in shape or condition for issuance to hospitals, 
already usually fully stocked. Then, too, both doctors 
and nurses were most often of little use. Most were 
not competenf; they were untrained, did not know what 
to do, or how to take care of soldiers, — still less could 
they take care of themselves. As for the women, sani- 
tarians or nurse corps, they were terrible, — helpless, 
irritable and unhappy; each one thinking herself of 
much importance, and acting under the direct orders of 
the Secretary of War, and very often indeed they had 
seen him before starting. What to do with these poor 
women was indeed a problem. They would sit in your 
office, if you happened to be a Medical Director, by the 
hour at the time, each one with an enamelled leather 
bag between her feet, waiting to be sent somewhere, 
anywhere ! 



200 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

And the doctors were often not much better. Poor 
fellows, how sorry at times I have been for them. 
They would come down from their comfortable homes, 
full of desire to be useful, and it would be so hard to 
find real work for them. I remember particularly one 
gentleman from Philadelphia, coming to report to me 
at that dreary wharf at Alexandria, where I stood so 
long, and was so tired. He wanted to see some surgery 
that day and then to go back that evening to Washing- 
ton. Surgery, I had none to show him, and for trans- 
portation, I could only show him a written order, for- 
bidding me to allow a single civilian to leave Alexandria 
on a hospital boat, so great was the demand for sick 
transportation. However, I did break that order in 
his case and gave him food and transportation, and he 
has been at heart my enemy ever since. He thought 
I had neglected and had failed to appreciate him that 
day at Alexandria. 

The town of Alexandria at that time was in a most 
defenseless condition. At first, the smallest force of 
the enemy could have captured it. Later, the troops of 
General Franklin's division or corps, arrived from the 
Army of the Potomac, and moved outwards on the 
Fairfax road, General McClellan's headquarters were 
for a short time in the town, and I saw something of 
the officers of his staff. There seemed then to be a 
very bitter feeling prevalent, antagonistic to General 
Pope, in fact, it almost appeared as if some were rather 
glad that he was being beaten, and there did not seem 
to be much activity in pushing forward to his assistance, 
nor much desire to do so. In the course of a few days, 
the transportation of wounded arranged itself, and I 
then was actively and pleasantly employed in assisting 



Fortunes of War 201 

Surgeon Sumners, U. S. A., in professional work at 
the Mansion House Hospital and elsewhere. 

At this place one morning, a curious rumor passed 
around. It was that General Halleck had declared him- 
self "Dictator," and that the army at Washington was 
satisfied that it should be so. As for those who were 
staying at Alexandria, or who were passing through, 
all seemed satisfied. I merely mention this idle rumor 
to show into what a state of doubt and want of con- 
fidence general opinion had lapsed. Halleck was often 
spoken of as the "Tycoon," but why, I cannot tell. He 
seemed big, he had a big head and a big hat, and was 
credited with brains. 

It was generally supposed at this time that General 
Lee would advance northward, and try to pass through 
Pennsylvania and New Jersey toward New York on 
that campaign of invasion which he afterwards at- 
tempted and in which he failed. I for one believed that 
we were in a most perilous condition, and I see from 
my letters that I wrote to my Mother and sisters that, 
as they were at North Conway in New Hampshire, they 
had better stay there until matters should clear up a 
little, telling them, too, that if things got blacker, I 
would write what to do with our papers. 

On the 9th of September, I returned to Washington 
to resume my work at the office. 



CHAPTER XVI 

SOUTH MOUNTAIN — ANTIETAM 

From the 9th to the i6th of September, 1862, I re- 
mained in Washington, busy at my office work, and 
daily visiting the hospitals which were being established. 
In fact, during my entire stay in Washington, I made 
it a rule to see as much as possible of the work going 
on in the hospitals. Later, when large hospitals were 
established in every direction and readily accessible, I 
made it a point to visit one hospital a day, especially 
when the Injured were being brought in from the front. 

During this week, the Southern forces under General 
Lee marched northward, fording the Potomac, and be- 
gan the "Invasion of Maryland." On September 2, 
1862, General McClellan was placed in command of all 
troops near Washington and intended for the defence 
of the Capital. His reinstatement was received by the 
troops with the greatest enthusiasm, and the reorganiza- 
tion of the previously almost disintegrated Army of the 
Potomac took place in the most miraculous manner. 
The army crystallized instantly, as it were, and became 
once more an efficient force. Then ensued a rapid pur- 
suit of Lee, who had reached Frederick, the capital of 
Maryland, which town, on General McClellan's ap- 
proach, he evacuated, and entrenched his command on 
and along South Mountain, and during the night en- 
camped behind Antietam Creek. On the 15th of Sep- 
tember, General McClellan advanced with his whole 

202 



South Mountain — Aiitietam 203 

army, which he drew up on the left bank of the creek, 
close to the southern lines. The i6th was spent in 
reconnoissance, and on the 17th was fought the famous 
battle of Antietam, as a result of which General Lee was 
driven across the Potomac back into Virginia. On the 
i8th of September, I received the following order: 

"Washington City, D. C. 

Sept. 18, 1862. 
Sir:— 

You will proceed without delay to Frederick, Md., to 
superintend the selection of specimens for the Pathologi- 
cal Museum, connected with this office. All medical 
officers are hereby ordered to give you any aid in their 
power to further this object. 

Very respectfully yr. obt. Servt. 

By order of the Surgeon General, 

(Signed) JOS. R. SMITH, 
Surgeon, U. S. A. 
Dr. J. H. Brinton, 

Surgeon of Volunteers, etc." 

Most of the orders from the Surgeon-General, which 
were given me, sending me to the army in the field, were 
in this shape. The object was that I might be entirely 
untrammeled, and that I might visit any headquarters 
or hospitals, and yet be at perfect liberty to go or come 
as I wished, procuring material for the national collec- 
tion, or literary material to be used in the preparation 
of the Surgical History of the War. Not infrequently, 
I received important verbal orders, the execution of 
which was the prime object of my being sent, as where, 
with an apparent "specimen" order, I was instructed to 
find out the loss after a battle, the extent of which a 



204 Personal Memoirs of John H, Brinton 

general commanding was not always desirous should 
reach the ears of a Secretary of War. An example 
or two of this I will give hereafter. 

Immediately on the receipt of the last order I started 
for Frederick, Maryland. On reaching Monocacy, a 
few miles east from Frederick, Maryland, we found that 
the bridge over the stream had been destroyed by the 
enemy. We were consequently delayed here for some 
time, but finally reached Frederick. The largest of the 
hospitals here was under the care of Dr. Weit, U. S. A., 
afterwards so distinguished as a surgeon in New York, 
and here I saw much surgery, and met also my old 
friend Dr. Hewitt, whom I knew so well in the West. 

I also met here the Surgeon-General, who had come 
down from Washington, bringing with him the Deputy 
Inspector General of the British Army, afterwards Sir 
William Muir, holding a position corresponding to that 
of our Surgeon-General. He had served long in the 
East and in China, and was a thorough soldier, and a 
very jolly old boy. He was as round as a barrel, with 
a fine bronzed soldierly face, quick in his manner, ob- 
servant, and possessed evidently of a thorough military 
professional knowledge. By the Surgeon-General I was 
ordered to go forward to the headquarters, — "the front." 
This, I accordingly did, in an ambulance. Reaching 
Middletown on the South Mountain slope, I found a 
large number of wounded, who were being most effi- 
ciently cared for under the general supervision of my 
old friend Dr. William Thomson, U. S. A., an Assistant 
Surgeon. Hospitals had been improvised and the best 
done that was possible. I made a very short stay at 
this hospital depot, as I had learned that fighting on a 
large scale had been going on at the front at or near 
Antietam Creek. Pushing on, I arrived at the field of 



South Mountain — Antietam 205 

Antietam. I reached there on the morning of the 19th 
of September, and was busily engaged for several days 
in visiting the various field hospitals. Of these there 
were very many. 

During the battle, the Surgeons of the different di- 
visions established their field hospitals in the farm 
houses with their barns and out-buildings scattered over 
the field of battle, which extends some six miles irregu- 
larly along Antietam Creek, at a distance, roughly, of 
three miles from the Potomac River, in some places a 
little more. As soon after the fighting as was possible, 
the wounded who were scattered over the vast area em- 
braced by the battle-field and the space between it and 
the Potomac River, over which the Confederates re- 
treated, were taken charge of. Those who were able 
to bear transportation were sent back to Frederick, and 
the great general hospitals in the rear. Those who 
could not bear transportation were gathered into the 
large general hospitals, which had been established, one 
upon the right near Keedysville, the Antietam Hospital, 
and another upon the left, the Locust Spring Hospital. 
The Confederate wounded who had been left in the 
neighborhood of Sharpsburg, and on the Antietam or 
eastern side of the Potomac, were also brought back 
with the surgeons left by their own people for their 
care. It was a long time before the vicinity of the 
Antietam battle-ground was entirely freed from the 
wounded, but in a word it may be said that those treated 
in hospital tents in the open air did well, better indeed 
than had they been placed in crowded city hospitals. 
The season of the year, the temperature, and the superb 
hospital organization were all in their favor.* 

*For a map of the battlefield of Antietam and an excellent descrip- 
tion of the surgical surroundings of the action, see Medl. and Surg. 



206 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

During my visit to the field of Antietam, I had ample 
opportunity of visiting the many little gatherings of 
wounded, which had formed at the numerous farm- 
houses, over and adjoining the battlefield area. It was 
wonderful indeed to see how well the poor fellows were 
getting along. In many places, outhouses, barns, and 
stables were occupied by those most seriously injured, 
while those less seriously wounded lay upon the ground, 
sheltered quite satisfactorily by portions of tents, 
stretched blankets, boughs of trees, straw thatchings, 
loose boards or fence rails. The best of them would 
look after the cooking, and the water supply from 
streams or neighboring springs. They took care of each 
other, seeing to physical wants, and by cheerfulness and 
bravery, sustaining the spirits of those who might be 
dependent. Surgical aid was available from adjacent 
and more elaborately equipped hospitals, but as above 
described, a mere temporary refuge and help was made 
practicable, until these wounded could be moved back- 
wards to organized field hospitals. The weather, for- 
tunately, was clear, dry and moderate; so that in fact, 
there was much less suffering from exposure than is 
usually observed after great battles. 

History of the Rebellion, Part I, Surg. V. Volume, Appended Docu- 
ments, page 96, Antietam Campaign. By the way, I may add that 
this map and nearly all the other field hospital maps, etc., of great 
battles in that book, except the extreme southern campaigns, were 
prepared under my direction when stationed in the Surgeon-Gen- 
eral's office in Washington. They were modified and reduced by an 
artist named Pohleos, from the topographical maps, and the position 
of the hospitals I usually had located by any medical inspectors or 
other medical officers, who might know the ground well. My name 
does not appear in any of this work, but it was designed by me, and 
much of it executed under my direct superintendence. Some was 
done by my successor after my departure from Washington. 



South Mountain — Antietam 207 

In one of these little farm hospitals, I learned of the 
death of my cousin, Harrison White. He had enlisted 
as a private in Company B of the 28th Pennsylvania 
Volunteer Infantry Regiment, and had vi^on the respect 
of his comrades by his good behavior. During the battle 
of Antietam, his regiment was heavily engaged, and his 
company wavering, Harrison sprang in front of his com- 
rades, calling them to advance and crying, "Sergeant, 
let's show them the way." He fell, ten paces in front 
of them, mortally wounded. He lived, I think, until 
the next day, and was buried near the fence in the rear 
of a garden. His grave was shown to me, and I gath- 
ered some leaves and grass, and sent them to his Mother, 
with what information I could learn of his gallant death. 
It seemed to me a singular circumstance that one of 
the two first cousins should die a private in the ranks 
of the army commanded by the other. 

During my stay at Antietam, I had an excellent chance 
of examining the battle-ground, and of studying more 
fully many incidents which I previously noticed else- 
where. Chief of these was the battlefield rigidity, the 
"instantaneous rigor," or rather the "rigor of instanta- 
neous death." My observations on these subjects were 
published in Hay's American Journal of the Medical 
Sciences, page 87, January, 1870, and were largely 
noticed, and republished in the European medical jour- 
nals. The most conspicuous and famed portion of the 
Antietam field was the "cornfield," and "sunken road" 
nearby. In this cornfield, which was fought over and 
over again, the fighting had been very fierce, and the 
musketry very hot. Dead bodies were everywhere, and 
one could scarcely walk without stumbling on one. I 
see that I have stated in print that in an area, fifty 
or sixty yards square, I counted forty dead bodies. 



208 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

"Many of these," I said, "lay in extraordinary attitudes, 
some with their arms raised rigidly in the air, some 
with their legs drawn up and fixed. In not a few, the 
trunk was curved forward and fixed. These attitudes, 
in a word, were not those of the relaxation of death, 
but were rather, of a seemingly active character, de- 
pendent apparently upon a final muscular action at the 
last moment of life, in the spasm of which the muscles 
set and remained rigid and inflexible. The death in the 
majority of cases had resulted from chest wounds; in 
fewer instances, from shots through the head and 
abdomen. The latter were accompanied by considerable 
hemorrhage, as was evident from the pools of dark- 
colored blood by the side of the bodies. These exam- 
inations were made about thirty-six hours after death, 
and also later. 

In the "sunken road" or "bloody lane," in which a 
strong stand was made, and the ground fiercely con- 
tested, I also noticed the body of a Southern soldier, 
of middle-age, of whom I speak in my report : "The 
body was in a semi-erect posture. One of the feet 
rested firmly on the ground, while the knee of the other 
leg, slightly fixed, pressed against the bank of earth, 
forming the side of a road. One arm extended was 
stretched forward, the hand resting upon the low breast 
work of fence rails, thrown up to protect the trench. 
His musket with ramrod halfway down, had dropped 
from his hand, and lay on the ground beside him. This 
soldier had evidently been killed while loading, and in 
the act of rising to his feet, probably for the purpose 
of observation, a ball had passed directly through the 
center of his head, and had emerged posteriorly." 

In many similar instances, which I observed, the reci- 
pient of the death wound had been acting on the de- 



South Mountain — Antietam 209 

fensive and was actually kneeling at the time. I have, 
however, seen the same thing, although more rarely, 
in one who at the last moment of life had been in 
motion, progressing forward. I have also seen the same 
rigor in animals, and notably in the instance of a dead 
battery horse, killed on the road near Burnside's Bridge 
in the same battle. A bullet had passed directly 
through his forehead and he had remained on his knees, 
his head curved in air, semi-erect, rigid and unsup- 
ported. Two other horses killed at the same moment, 
lay on their back and side, the usual attitude of dead 
animals. The posture of the one to which I have partic- 
ularly referred was very striking, and full of grace. 
He seemed an immense figure of black and bronze, with 
parts of the dead harness still lying loosely upon him. 
It was scarcely possible to believe him dead. 

When I first passed over Antietam field, the scene was 
a busy one. Men were actively engaged in collecting 
the wounded, ambulances were hurrying to the rear, 
many of the slightly wounded were staggering hospital- 
wards, and burial parties were busy digging long burial 
trenches. The evidences of the battle were everywhere, 
bullet marks on corn, twigs, and fences, trees shattered 
in their trunks, and the dead scattered far and wide. 
In a day olr so, visitors and the friends of the injured 
thronged to the field. 

During my stay in Keedysville, the central hospital 
point, I was ordered by the Surgeon-General to ride to 
the Potomac to see the field hospitals of the enemy. 
This I did, and found them scattered along the Potomac 
River, in the rear of a position which they had held. 
At one of these hospitals, the one near to Sharpsburg, 
I found an old student of Dr. DaCosta and myself. 
His name was Dr. Dennis, and he had been attached 



210 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

to Stonewall Jackson's command. From him I learned 
many interesting facts, and began to appreciate that 
there are always two parties in a campaign or battle, — 
you, and your opponents, and also this fact which Gen- 
eral Grant has so well brought out in his personal 
memoirs, — that, although you may feel frightened at 
your position, you must always bear in mind that some- 
times your opponent is as frightened as yourself; this, 
apropos of the fact, that while the Union forces were 
trembling in their boots at Stonewall Jackson's bold- 
ness, his troops were disturbed lest their very boldness 
might lead to their being cornered and caught. Dr. 
Dennis told me, "Doctor, if you had only been a little 
sharper, you might have had us all." 

When near the Potomac, I wandered along the cliffs 
above the Maryland bank. There, I met an officer of 
an infantry regiment, tall, thin and very wet. "How 
do you do. Doctor?" said he. "Very well," said I, 
"but I don't recollect you; who are you?" "Why," he 
replied, "don't you know me? I have sold you many a 
book. I used to be a salesman at Lindsay & Blakiston's 
medical bookstore in Philadelphia, and if I hadn't been 

a fool, I would have been there yet." He seemed 

so upset, that I inquired into particulars, when he told 
me that he held a Lieutenant's commission in the ii8th 
Pennsylvania Infantry, which had been raised by the 
exertions of the merchants of the Philadelphia Corn 
Exchange; that his regiment had been ordered over the 
river to see if any of the rebels remained there, and 
had found them and had been subjected to a terrific fire 
from a Southern brigade, who suddenly appeared from 
behind a tow path, or natural defence of the ground, 
and were driven back to the northern side of the river 
in the greatest confusion, and with heavy loss. "So, 



South Mountain — Antietam 211 

here I am," added the speaker, "but many of my com- 
pany have been left on the ground behind." 

General Lee made a narrow escape with his army 
after the battle of Antietam. Had General McClellan 
advanced, the Southern troops would in all probability 
have in good part been captured. As I was passing 
over the field, on this very morning, I met a young 
United States officer, moving forward alone. I spoke 
to him, some commonplace of the fight; "Ah," said he, 
"if General McClellan could only realize how in every 
hour's delay, he is losing a lifetime of glory." 

I often wondered at General McClellan's unexplained 
inactivity after Antietam, but within a month of this 
writing I was told by General Ruggles, a patient of 
mine, that he had seen a dispatch of Halleck to McClel- 
lan, or had been told of it by McClellan, in which Gen- 
eral Halleck positively directed McClellan not to ad- 
vance, or make any offensive demonstration, but to 
remain quiet, and hold his own, and above all things 
to remember that any incautious attempt to follow, or 
to flank Lee, would uncover Washington, and risk the 
safety of the President, the Capitol, and the Nation. 
I have no doubt from the positiveness of General Rug- 
gles' assertion, from his official position, and his in- 
timacy with General McClellan, that his statement to 
me embodied the truth. 

The Surgeon-General and his guest, Deputy Inspector- 
General Muir of the British Army, spent some little 
time at Keedysville, in the rear of McClellan's head- 
quarters. The village hotel was kept by a very clever 
fellow, who had an exceedingly attractive little wife, 
at least so the British Inspector thought, for he insisted 
on paying special attentions to her, much as would have 
been his manner to a British barmaid. A division of 



212 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

our troops marched past, at the time, and I recall the 
inspector leaning out of the hotel window with his arm 
around the hostess's waist, much to the husband's 
chagrin, and to the evident astonishment of the young 
woman, who saw that no indelicacy was meant, but 
still felt that the custom was as yet foreign to Mary- 
land good manners. But the Briton stuck to his post 
with soldier-like pertinacity. 

It was just at this time that the regimental bands 
had been diminished in number, and in many cases dis- 
continued. Our men marched past well, but still a little 
languidly, for they were tired, and I recall Muir say- 
ing to me, "It may be more economical, and perhaps 
it may be wise, to stop the music, but then a little strain 
would make the men step up, and make their heels 
come forward" ; and I must say, I thought so too. 

Taking it all in all, the struggle at Antietam was a 
typical battle, fought in the open; it was typical also 
as showing how the Americans fight, no matter where 
from. Every foot of ground was fiercely contested, 
and when either party gave way, it was before a crush- 
ing force of men or fire. It was a fight of which 
neither of the contesting armies need be ashamed; but 
each with truth, might be proud of the other. 

By the 26th of September, 1862, I had returned to 
Washington and set myself busily at my proper work, 
the Surgical History of the War, and the collection of 
material for the Museum. 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE FIRST FREDERICKSBURG 

After the battle of Antietam, the Army of the Potomac 
remained on the north side of the Potomac, and then 
crossed into Virginia towards the end of October. On 
the 7th of November, General McClellan was relieved 
from his command which was then assumed by General 
Burnside. On the 17th of November the army marched 
for Fredericksburg, and by the 20th, a large force 
had reached Falmouth on the north bank of the river, 
directly opposite to Fredericksburg. By the loth of 
December, the entire army was concentrated on the 
north bank of the Rappahannock. During this night, 
and the following day, boats were placed in position 
and with the pontoon bridges thus formed under a 
heavy fire of the enemy, the army crossed the river, 
occupying the greater portion of the city, while that 
part farthest from the river remained in the enemy's 
hands. 

On the 13th, the fierce fight of the "First Fredericks- 
burg" occurred. General Burnside with all his force, 
having crossed the Rappahannock and occupied the 
town, advanced against General Lee, who had marched 
his forces along the hills on the southwest of the town. 
In spite of the most heroic efforts, the assault failed 
completely, the United States troops were repulsed and 
fell back to their position, as occupied on the morning 
of Saturday the 13th of December, 1862. 

213 



214 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

A report of what was going on at the army front 
reached Washington while the battle was raging, and 
on that evening, I was despatched with the Surgeon- 
General to army headquarters. I reached there on the 
morning of the 14th, Sunday, and immediately crossed 
on the pontoon bridge. The court-house, churches and 
other large buildings were occupied temporarily as hos- 
pitals. Very many of the wounded had already, that 
is during the night of the 13th and the morning of the 
14th, been sent across the bridge to their respective 
corps and division hospitals, on the high ground lately 
occupied by the army in the rear at Falmouth, and 
along the Acquia Creek and railroad. Here, I ought 
to state that Acquia Creek landing on the Potomac 
River, about ten miles from Fredericksburg, was a base 
of supplies for the army, and that a railroad connected 
the two points. If I remember rightly, the road at 
this time was under the able supervision of Mr. Frank 
Thomson.* Communication with Washington and 
transportation for the wounded, and for military pur- 
poses, was thus comparatively easy, and very great 
numbers of wounded were readily, and in comparative 
comfort, carried to the hospitals at Washington, or to 
points farther north. Large tent hospitals had also been 
established at Acquia Creek and at Potomac Creek, at 
or near the railroad crossing. 

My duty at Fredericksburg, at this time, was to help 
in every way those who were caring for the wounded, 
and at the same time to look after the interests of the 
Museum. Dr. Moss, who was then assistant curator 
of the Museum, had accompanied me, and was very 
busy gathering up specimens to be taken up to Wash- 
ington for preparation and preservation. The court 

*Afterwards President of the Pennsylvania Railroad. 



The First Fredericksburg 215 

house hospital was in the centre of the town. The 
operating-table was placed in the court-room and a great 
many operations were performed. During the after- 
noon, if I remember rightly, of Monday the 15th, all 
operations were discontinued and the hospital appoint- 
ments were removed. Very shortly after this was done, 
a shell exploded in the court-room, just where the 
operating-table had stood, and everything was turned 
topsy-turvy. Fortunately no one was in the room at 
the time. Had this occurred the day before, or in the 
morning, while the operations were going on, a good 
many of us would have come to grief. 

It must be remembered that all of the time during 
which we occupied Fredericksburg, the town, in one 
sense, was at the mercy of the enemy. It was com- 
pletely at the mercy of the heavy guns, planted above 
and below the town; at least I heard they were heavy 
guns and at all events they were efficient batteries.* 
The pontoon bridge was completely under their fire. 

Occasionally a shell or two would be fired into the 
town or at the steeples of the churches, or at the bridge, 
but in the main we were allowed a quiet possession. 
The scene was a busy one, the town was full of our 
soldiers, many bivouacked in the streets and yards and 
grounds, ambulances were moving to and fro, and a 
long trail of wounded were constantly passing toward 
the bridge. I slept my first night in the basement lec- 
ture or Sunday-school room of a church in the centre of 

*The Confederate Artillery at Fredericksburg was very efficient 
and that portion commanding the city was commanded by that great 
artillerist General E. P. Alexander, who stated to Lee before the 
battle opened that he could with his guns "Rake those fields as with 
a fine tooth comb and that a chicken crossing them could not 
live."— E. T. S. 



216 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

the town. It had a tall steeple, and this had been occu- 
pied by one or two men of our signal corps. When I 
say occupied, I mean that a rope had been thrown over 
the apex of the steeple, and that a man or two had 
been drawn up and sat there, high in the air, indicating 
by the movements of little flags what they saw within 
the enemy's lines, or conveying orders by telegraph to 
our commanders. Finally, their movements were ob- 
served by the enemy, and their perch became at once a 
target. It was a nice shot, but finally the Southern 
cannoneers got the range and one of their shot passed 
directly through the steeple, just above the attachment 
of the ropes, which held up the eyrie of the signal men. 
Evidently the latter dreaded the next shot, for they 
descended with great rapidity and skill, to the great 
delight of the onlooking soldiers below. So they es- 
caped, but the Southerners became, and continued sus- 
picious of the steeple, and every now and then turned 
their attention towards it. 

Early, very early in the morning, I was awakened 
from my comfortable nap in the basement (I had 
arranged two benches with great dexterity as a bed), 
by a crashing sound, and a general jar and concussion. 
I went into the yard to see what had happened, and 
found some soldiers looking up at the steeple. They 
pointed out to me with great glee, how another shell, 
a big one, had also gone through the steeple, not quite 
so high up. 

And here I saw a good example of a soldier's reck- 
lessness or stupidity. A squad were about getting their 
breakfast, and the man whose duty it was to light the 
fire had just found a nice piece of pine board, the top 
of a box. Desiring to split this, he had set upright an 
unexploded percussion shell, twelve inches long, with a 



The First Fredericksburg 217 

brass screw percussion point upwards. I caught him 
in the very act of raising his board, to bring it down 
with all his force. I pushed him over, to his great sur- 
prise and indignation. Had I been a moment later, 
and the shell a live one, which I believe it was, this 
history might never have been written. A somewhat 
similar instance occurred after Antietam. Two soldiers 
walking in the turnpike found a shell, which had been 
fired. One said to the other, "John, there are two kinds 
of shell; one goes off by a fuse like a fire-cracker, and 
the other explodes when it strikes its point; that's what 
they call a percussion shell; I'll show you this one." 
And then he held it carefully point downwards and 
dropped it on the turnpike bed. It was a percussion 
shell, — did explode, — and but one mangled man was 
left to tell this anecdote. 

I remember my breakfast on that morning. Dr. 
Moss and I had found a little flour and we chartered 
an old negro woman whom we had discovered hidden 
away in the cellar of an old mansion house, to make us 
some cakes. "Lor, Massa, flour a'int no good widout 
them oder things" ; but we persisted, and such a dismal 
mess ! I have never eaten any cake since without think- 
ing' of this. Later we saw a solitary rooster stalking 
along. We were very hungry, and ideas of spring 
chicken flitted through our brain. We consulted dear 
old Dr. Cuyler, who happened to be with us. "He 
(the chicken), might do," he said. So we started a 
darkey boy after him, for he was a wary chicken, but 
the darkey caught him and killed him, and we later 
tried to eat him, but our failure was dismal. He might 
have lived in the time of the Revolution. 

In passing through Fredericksburg, I was much struck 
by the real effect of the cannonade. Both before and 



218 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

during the placing of the pontoons, the town had been 
subjected to a heavy plunging artillery fire from many 
of our guns, placed on the elevated northern bank of 
the river, Stafford Heights. The shot had gone 
everywhere, and had struck many buildings, and yet, 
save the presence of the shot holes, there did not 
seem to have been a very great amount of damage 
done. The buildings were still standing. There had 
not been much injury by fire. Interiors had been 
somewhat disturbed, but considering all the circum- 
stances of the cannon fire, there did not seem to be a 
great deal to show for it. I saw one queer sight, of 
a room, a small one, in which a shell had burst in a 
feather-bed just after its occupant had risen and left 
the room. The effect of the explosion was extraor- 
dinary, the entire surface of the room, walls and ceiling 
alike were coated or plastered with adherent feathers; 
one could not but wonder how and why they stuck. 

It was difficult for me at that time to understand why 
the town, when we were in it, was not more heavily 
bombarded, and why the pontoon bridge was not de- 
stroyed. The position of the commanding batteries 
was such, that it would have been an easy matter to 
have rendered the passage of the bridge by us diffi- 
cult and dangerous. It may be, however, that the 
enemy, confident in their position, wished to have as 
many of the United States troops as possible on the 
south side of the river, and courted an assault, in the 
confidence of the impregnability of their position, a 
series of slopes, leading up to steep hills, defended by 
strong works and heavy batteries. They unquestion- 
ably had every reason to resist and repulse an assault, 
and I suppose that they believed that in the event of 
another unsuccessful effort on our part, and a retreat 



The First Fredericksburg 219 

in confusion, they would be able to capture or destroy 
our entire force. I went out toward our picket lines, 
to see the field, and I know that from what I saw, and 
from what I was told, I was very much impressed with 
the enemy's strength, and with our weakness of position. 
It did not seem to me a military possibility for an 
attacking force to be able to make headway against a 
brave enemy, so favorably located, and I think that at 
that time our men felt so too. 

I recall a funny incident, illustrative of the peculiar 
humor of the American soldier. The bridge of boats 
between Fredericksburg and Falmouth was guarded on 
the Falmouth side by sentries to prevent unauthorized 
passage. On the afternoon of the battle, a straggler 
hastily crossing was halted by the sentry on the friendly 
bank, and informed that he could not pass without per- 
mit or orders. "Not pass! Not pass!" exclaimed the 
astonished man. "Indeed, you must let me pass, I must 
get across, for I assure you that I am the most demoral- 
ized man in the whole of the Army of the Potomac." 

The American soldier, or let me say, the American 
citizen volunteer, is a reasoning sort of animal; he knows 
just as well as his commander, and sometimes better, 
when he can advance, and when he can fall back; in 
other words, when he can win, or when he must lose. 
More than one battle in our war was "the men's fight." 

As I saw our troops in front of Fredericksburg, there 
was little shelter for them, except in their distance from 
the enemy's guns, and our advance lines and pickets 
were flat on the ground, covered by such scanty pro- 
tection as they could scrape together, yet exposed to 
the fire of the enemy from their well-constructed rifle 
pits, on higher ground. As a consequence of the supine 
position, some of our men received strange ranging 



220 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

wounds, with remote and singular points of entrance 
and exit. 

In consequence, too, of the openness of the battle- 
ground, and of its exposed position, it had been a diffi- 
cult matter to remove the wounded, and yet so admirably 
had the ambulance department, and the field hospital 
been arranged by the skill and forethought of the Medi- 
cal Director of the Army of the Potomac, Surgeon J. 
Letterman, U. S. A., and so efficient were the medical 
officers and the attendants, that during the night fol- 
lowing the battle, all of the wounded were taken off 
the field of battle and carried to the near hospitals. 
This demanded great bravery and determination on the 
part of the ambulance corps, since every movement had 
to be made in the dark, a glimmer of light sufficing to 
draw the enemy's fire. By the night of the 14th (Sun- 
day), most of the serious operations and dressings had 
been performed. During that night, it was whispered 
that on the 15th (Monday) all of the wounded would 
be removed, as it was the intention to withdraw the 
army away from the town to the northern bank of 
the river. On the afternoon of the 15th, I encountered 
Dr. Moss, my assistant, bringing with him an immense 
number of surgical specimens for the Museum, some 
of these in boxes, which we sneaked over in the wagons ; 
the remainder were carried in great bags on the backs 
of one or two very black negroes. Just as we reached 
the northern bank, one or two shots passed over the 
bridge, Dr. Moss, who was somewhat philosophically 
inclined, remarking, "What a blessed escape, for what 
a wretched ending it would have been to one's life, to 
have been swept into the river on an ignominious re- 
treat, holding onto a bag of bones." I know that we 
made very good time on that bridge, and I felt greatly 



The First Fredericksburg 221 

relieved as I climbed the river bank on the crooked 
road near the Lacy House,* On the night of the 15th 
of December (Monday) the army was withdrawn from 
Fredericksburg to its old position. I might add that 
after the wounded were brought away from the town, 
the city was carefully searched by medical officers, to 
see that none were left behind. 

From this time, and during the next ten days, the 
disabled were sent as rapidly as possible on the rail- 
road to Acquia Creek, and thence by boats to the general 
hospital at Washington and elsewhere. I do not think 
too much praise can be accorded Medical Director Let- 
terman and his assistants for the wonderful manner in 
which the wounded in this battle were removed, cared 
for, and transported northwards. 

For a day or two, I remained at the headquarters of 
the army, living at the hospital. Here I saw a great 
deal of surgery and had many pleasant experiences. I 
remember when I first went there, and before I had 
arranged my means and quarters of living, meeting one 
who at that time was regarded as a great philanthropist. 
In my judgment he was a great humbug and hypocrite 
and did not afterwards turn out very well. However, 
when I met him, he welcomed me warmly after his way, 
"So glad to see you, so glad, and how are you?" 
"Hungry," said I, "very hungry." "How fortunate, 
how very fortunate!" he added, "I have brought down 

*This fine old residence, a long low mansion situated on the 
Stafford Hills just across the Rappahannock, was better known as 
"Chatham," and, if I correctly remember, was frequently visited 
by both Washington and Lee. On account of its associations, Lee 
instructed his artillery not to damage it. I saw one good sized 
solid shot imbedded in the back wall near the roof when I visited 
the old place in 1903. — E. T. S. 



222 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

two fine turkeys." Here I felt myself warming up. 
"Two fine turkeys, for Willie Averill's dinner, but I've 
left them in Washington. Good-bye, take care of 
yourself." 

Somewhere around this time, Dr. Hammond, the 
Surgeon-General visited at the headquarters' camp. I 
think I then saw him at his best. His troubles had not 
yet come upon him. Big, burly and genial, proud of his 
high position in the army, full of professional feeling, 
and anxious to develop good feeling in the medical 
corps, he looked and acted the Surgeon-General. He 
took also a great professional interest in the cases before 
him, and insisted upon operating himself, doing one or 
two operations fairly well, notably an elbow excision. 
He was, moreover, well pleased with the medical 
arrangements, the hospital organizations, and the am- 
bulance corps. 

I returned to Washington about the 19th of December, 
and was immediately at my old work. Specimens were 
now accumulating at the Museum. Very soon after my 
arrival, I sent Dr. Moss down to the army for more. 
By this time, the surgeons generally were becoming in- 
terested in the Museum project, and were taking pains 
to get and preserve what they could for the collection. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

VARIED LABORS 

I have not yet spoken of the Medical Inspectors. The 
grade of Medical Inspector was established by the Act 
of April i6, 1862. These officers were to be eight in 
number, each with the rank, pay, and emoluments of 
a Lieutenant-Colonel of Cavalry. There was also to 
be a Medical Inspector-General with the rank and pay 
of Colonel. For this office. Dr. Perly, who was some 
congressman's relative or friend had been selected. I 
at first thought I would have been one of the Medical 
Inspectors, but the appointments were made by political 
influence and not according to the standing of the man 
upon the roll of surgeons of their respective Staff Corps. 
About this time. Dr. Hammond told me that he would 
nominate me for one of the positions, but I declined, 
not being willing to enter into any political struggle, 
and being well satisfied with what I had already acquired. 

I had now begun to make a few valuable friends in 
Washington. If I remember rightly my first start in 
this direction was through Dr. Coolidge, who was ap- 
pointed one of the new Medical Inspectors. He was a 
surgeon in the old army and had seen a good deal of 
service. He was a man of culture, of good heart, and 
of a most kind and gentle manner. I grew to know Dr. 
Coolidge well, and in fact, late in the war, I became 
intimate with him. After I left the army, he was sta- 
tioned in Philadelphia, and when he was sent away, he 

223 



224 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

left with me many of his books for safe-keeping. 
Dying, shortly afterwards, these volumes were sent to 
my old friend, his widow, who at that time was living 
in New England. Among the books was a complete 
set of United States Army Registers, back to and in- 
cluding revolutionary times. But two complete sets 
were in existence, this one of Dr. Coolidge's and one 
belonging to the late General Folten, Engineers Corps, 
U. S. A. In the War of 1812, when the British burned 
the Government buildings at Washington, all the official 
registers were burned. As far as known, these two sets 
were the only private complete ones. After Dr. Coo- 
lidge's death, I notified the Surgeon-General's library 
of the existence of this complete register. Dr. Coolidge's 
wife had been a Miss Morris, one of a navy family, and 
it was her brother. Lieutenant George M. Morris, who 
commanded the Cumberland, in the absence of Captain 
Radford, when she was sunk with her flag flying, at 
Hampton Roads, by the rebel Merrimac, March 8, 1862. 
Mrs. Coolidge was very kind to me, and presented me 
to the family of Captain Wilkes, so well known in the 
"Trent" affair, and thus I was introduced by one person 
to another, until I had formed a very pleasant circle of 
acquaintances, among the old Washington people, who 
antedated the political people of the day, — but all this 
took time. 

I had hoped to be able to spend my Christmas at 
home this year of 1862, but affairs at Washington were 
so urgent, that I was not able to do so. So I spent 
my holiday season at Washington, feeling lonely 
enough, for I had been away from home for two Christ- 
mases; the week passed, however, and then came New 
Year's Day. New Year's Day at Washington was the 
day of the year, the gala day. Everyone, every official, 



Varied Labors 225 

feels it his duty to dress up in his finest toggery, and 
to pay his respects to the President of the United States, 
and from him downwards to all chiefs of lesser 
magnitude. First of all, the members of the diplomatic 
body go in state and full dress to pay their respects, 
then in turn comes the army and navy in full dress, 
then the civil service, and so on, and last of all, the 
general public. And this was the state programme. 
Let me speak of my own department, "quorum pars 
(minima) fui." 

At ten o'clock or thereabouts, we officials of the Sur- 
geon-General's office, met at the office in full, big full 
uniform, sword, belt and sash, and if one had them, 
cocked hat and epaulets, although, as these were war 
times, the cocked hat and epaulets might be dispensed 
with. However, we made quite a show and followed 
our chief, meeting the officers from the War Depart- 
ment, and officers in garrison, and in fact, officers in 
general, and in we filed, the General commanding the 
army leading, and solemnly we marched past the Presi- 
dent, as he stood, long, lanky and plain-looking, in the 
big room (I think the east room) of the White House. 
I do not think that it crossed my mind that never man 
had greater work to do, or did it better, or left a 
nobler name to after ages. He bowed to each one of 
us as we passed, and then we dispersed for a little 
while through the rooms. The scene was a brilliant 
one, shining uniforms were everywhere, and there was 
a certain quaintness to an American eye in the strange 
court dresses of the diplomatic corps, who had lingered 
to see the military and navy reception. 

On the 4th of February, I was sent, down hurriedly 
to visit the general hospital at Annapolis, Maryland, to 
report upon the cases of hospital gangrene said to be 



226 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

there. I accordingly went, and found that a number 
of such cases had occurred.* 

They were all Union soldiers who had been wounded, 
and had fallen into the enemy's hands, and had recently 
been exchanged, and brought up by steamers from City 
Point, Va. Many of them had been confined in the 
wretched Libby Prison and were filthy and almost 
starved. They had, however, begun to improve as soon 
as they arrived north, and were placed under healthy 
and more favorable surroundings. A great deal has 
been said about these cases by the different civil com- 
missions, who were often disposed to find fault unjustly 
with the medical department of the army, and to arrogate 
to themselves credit to which they were not entitled. 
In the latter part of the month of February, I was 
again sent down to Annapolis on the same errand, and 
found that proper and satisfactory arrangements had 

* ORDER. 

"Surg. Genl. Office, 

Washington, February 4, 1862. 
Sir: 

Reliable information has been received at this office that hospital 
gangrene is prevailing to a considerable extent at the Genl. Hospt. 
at Annapolis, Md. You will, on this, immediately proceed to that 
city, and inquire into the origin of the affection in question, and the 
means which have been adopted for its treatment, and for checking 
its progress, making in your report such suggestions as may seem 
proper. You will confer with the Surgeon in charge on these 
points. You are hereby authorized to call upon the Surgeon in 
charge for such present and future reports, as in your opinion may 
tend to elucidate the whole subject. I have the honor to be, 
Very respfty, 

W. A. Hammond, 

Surgn. Genl. 
To Surgeon J. H. Brinton, U. S. V. 
Washington, D. C." 



Varied Labors 227 

been made for all hospital gangrene cases, which were 
doing well. 

On March 28, 1863, I received an order to investigate 
hospital gangrene in Louisville and Nashville. I im- 
mediately started for Louisville, and on arriving there 
on the evening of April 2nd, I went to the Gait House, 
a hotel filled to overflowing with officers and military 
personages. I then called upon Dr. Middleton Gold- 
smith and found him to be a man of extraordinary 
attainments and energy. He had at that time many 
cases of hospital gangrene under his care. The hospital 
impressed me most favorably. It was very large and 
seemed to be managed in an original manner, and to 
be replete with all kinds of ingenious devices. I was 
particularly struck with the manner of making coffee. 
The water percolated through a series of large tanks, 
the first one being placed near the ceiling, and the last 
one on the floor. The entire strength of the coffee was 
by these means extracted, and none was wasted. Dr. 
Goldsmith was, I believe, the first who used bromine 
in the treatment of hospital gangrene, and sloughing 
sores. Its effect, when thoroughly applied, seemed to 
me at the time almost marvellous. It acted locally 
to check the spreading gangrene, and the constitutional 
symptoms at once underwent a change for the better. 
I saw one case of a man with hospital gangrene, extend- 
ing on the right leg from the hip to the ankle, the 
tissues having been eaten away to great depth. The 
man was etherized, and the bromine (pure) most thor- 
oughly applied, and rubbed into every point. His con- 
stitutional state was very low, and he seemed very 
feeble. On the morrow when I saw him, he was 
propped up in bed in a semi-sitting posture, and pre- 
sented a marvellous change. He was in good spirits 



228 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

and hopeful, his only complaint was that he had not 
had enough to eat at breakfast. 

The victims of this disease were horrible creatures 
to look at. Starvation, disease and exposure had done 
their worst, and contributed to the development of this 
horrid hospital gangrene, — the "pourriture de I'hos- 
pital" so familiar to Larrey, and so well described by 
Hennen, in his account of the Peninsular War, and 
which was especially observed at the siege of Badajos. 
The cases of gangrene at Louisville resembled strongly 
those which I had seen at Annapolis, Md., only they 
seemed to be worse; they probably had been exposed 
more in the prison pens of the South, and had been 
subjected to a prolonged land transportation. 

At Louisville, Dr. Goldsmith was very kind to me, 
and took me around to see every person and everything 
to be seen, and thus my stay in Louisville was made very 
pleasant. After remaining a few days in this city, and 
after having fully inspected the gangrene cases, I de- 
termined in virtue of my discretionary orders, to go to 
Nashville, and examine the condition of affairs there. 
The Louisville and Nashville Railroad was at that time 
a military road. It was strongly guarded by troops at 
intervals of a few miles, but it was at all times exposed 
to guerrilla incursions; it was passable but not safe. 
Nashville itself was thoroughly garrisoned. 

I made my start accordingly on a fine morning, but 
had a narrow escape on my way. I was standing on 
the rear platform of a car, smoking, when suddenly I 
observed the car behind, which was coupled to that on 
which I stood, jumping from side to side in a strange 
manner. Instinctively, I backed against the car door, 
and staggered within; as I did so the platform of my 
car disappeared and with the rear car attached to it. 



Varied Labors 229 

rolled down the bank. I pulled the bell rope, the train 
stopped and slowly backed to the place of the accident. 
We then found that the car at fault had jumped the 
track at a cattle guard (a sort of gridiron of logs at 
road crossings to keep cattle off the track) had rolled 
down the embankment, and was lying wheels upward 
on the slope. Most of the passengers (military) had 
been thrown out and scattered around. One of these, 
Surgeon James Bryant, U. S. Vols., occupied a very 
peculiar position. He was apparently planted head 
downwards in the dirt of the embankment, and there 
he stayed, I will not say stood, for his heels were 
upright in the air, a sort of inverted pillar, unconscious, 
or at all events, greatly dazed. Fortunately when they 
picked him up he was found not to be very seriously 
hurt. 

I ran back on the train to Louisville, with one or two 
of the injured, and on the next train started again for 
Nashville. Morgan, or some other guerilla leader, 
threatened the road at this time, and made travelling 
somewhat precarious. As we went down, we learned 
at one station (I think it was a place called Elizabeth), 
that a band of guerillas had just passed, pushing on to 
a point three or four miles ahead to a place or road 
crossing, eminently eligible for ambushing and stopping 
a train, and that our train was their object. So it was 
a race for this point. We put on all speed, and passed 
the critical road crossing as the band of mounted 
irregulars appeared on the road over the top of the 
hills. The railroad speed was good, faster than I would 
care to travel often. 

As I approached the bridge at Nashville over the 
Cumberland River, it presented a very military appear- 
ance, heavily stockaded, looped for musketry, and pro- 



230 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

vided with cannon in embrasures. Arrived in the city, 
I went to the prominent hotel, and spent the succeeding 
two days in visiting the hospitals and carrying out my 
instructions. I was kindly taken care of by Surgeon 
Thurston, U. S. Vols. Nashville at this time as a garri- 
son town presented a busy appearance, contrasting 
strongly with the same town, as I had seen it on the 
first day of its occupancy by General Nelson, when I 
had gone up with General Grant after the capture of 
Fort Donelson. Then, it seemed a deserted city, all 
doors were closed and windows barred, shops were shut 
and scarcely anyone was in the streets. Fear was every- 
where, and it seemed as if those in town sat in dread 
of an expected massacre. While at Nashville, I took 
the opportunity of going down to Murfreesboro. Here 
a battle had been fought about January i, 1863, Gen- 
eral Rosecrans commanding the Union forces. The 
fight is known as the battle of Stone River, and the 
Union success (or rather the salvation of the army), 
was in some measure owing to the good conduct of the 
forces under General Sheridan. In passing along the 
street of the town, I met Sheridan, whom I had not 
seen since I left him at camp at general headquarters 
before Corinth in 1862. He was then only a Captain 
in the quartermaster's department, but now, when I 
met him at Murfreesboro, he had achieved the rank of 
Brigadier-General, with a favorable and spreading repu- 
tation. He was very kind in manner to me, and I was 
glad to have seen him. At this time, at our meeting in 
Murfreesboro, General Sheridan, speaking of himself, 
said to me, "Doctor, a pretty rapid rise, isn't it ? Three 
(or four) from a Captain, to a Brigadier-General, and 
I mean to deserve it, too." 

About the 12th of April I reached Washington, hav- 



Varied Labors 231 

ing returned by way of Philadelphia, of course. After 
making my report of my trip, and of hospital gangrene, 
and its treatment in the West by bromine, I busied 
myself with my office duties until the early part of 
May, when I received an order to proceed to the head- 
quarters of the Army of the Potomac, and report to 
Surgeon Letterman, for special duty connected with 
pathological specimens, and thereafter to return to my 
duties in Washington. 

So on the 5th of May I left with my hospital stew- 
ards. Stanch was a German water-color painter. He 
had enlisted, tempted by the bounty, or to avoid the 
draft, and had immediately been detailed on this special 
duty as water colorist at the Surgeon-General's office. 
Schafhirt was the bone artist, the son of Schafhirt who 
prepared the specimens at the Museum, and who had 
originally been an assistant or workman in the dissect- 
ing room of the University of Pennsylvania. Stanch's 
duty was to paint sketches of such wounds and in- 
juries as I might indicate, while Schafhirt was to assist 
me in the collection of specimens for the Army Museum, 
that is, to bring away the bones fractured by gunshot, 
or cannon projectiles, mostly obtained from the am- 
putated limbs, which accumulated at the operating-tables 
in the various hospitals, general, division, corps or field, 
which I might visit. 

At first I had experienced much difficulty in obtaining 
the necessary permission from surgeons, but by this time 
they had become interested, and were anxious to fur- 
nish all they could to the national collection. As the 
preparations were finished, or rather the limbs, etc., I 
had them roughly cleaned (most often I was obliged to 
do this myself), and then I had them placed in barrels. 



232 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

with liquor, and so sent or took them with me to Wash- 
ington. 

Before I left, rumors of a decided victory for the 
Union army had been rife in Washington. On the boat 
to Acquia Creek, I met and traveled with my old friend, 
Dr. Thomson, then Assistant Surgeon. We noticed as 
we approached Acquia Creek, the depot of the railroad 
and the camp in Fredericksburg, that all the indications 
were that our army had suffered reverses. On the same 
train with us were the President, Mr. Lincoln ; and Gen- 
eral Halleck, the General Chief of the Army. My im- 
pression was that they were in an empty baggage car in 
which two wooden chairs had been placed for them. 
This visit was unexpected and they were on their way to 
headquarters to see for themselves what had happened. 
They were provided with a special ambulance from the 
station, and started campward. Dr. Thomson and I also 
went up in an ambulance of the Medical Department. 
The distance, only a mile or so, was soon passed over, 
but we arrived long before the great dignitaries. When 
they did get out, Mr. Lincoln's tall silk hat was creased 
by knocking against the top of the vehicle as if he had 
sat upon it. Their delay was caused by having been 
brought by a much longer wagon route, so as to furnish 
time for some slight moral cleansing of the headquarters' 
camp — at least, so we were told. 

The battle of Chancellorsville had been fought and the 
Union Army had again retreated to the Falmouth side 
of the river. We, in other words, had suffered a defeat, 
but the enemy had sustained an irreparable loss in the 
death of Stonewall Jackson, who was wounded on the 
2nd of May and died about a week afterward. I think 
he was their ablest general and, with his fall, fell the 
Southern cause. 



Varied Labors 233 

Having finished my work at the hospitals and having 
collected what specimens I could and seen what surgery 
I was able, I returned to Washington, leaving my men 
to do some further work. The impression on my mind 
was that Chancellorsville was a disaster to us and that 
Hooker was hardly able to conduct the Army of the 
Potomac on a successful career. I ought to say here 
that Jackson's wounds and expected death seemed to 
cause no elation in our army. All recognized how 
dangerous an enemy he was, how honorable and brave, 
how swift in his movements, how hard a striker, in 
fact, how great a military genius. Yet with all this, 
the feeling of the Northern army was one of pity, I 
might also say of regret, that so great a soldier was 
passing away. 

At Washington I busied myself with my office work 
until the 21st of May, 1863, when I received the fol- 
lowing order: 

"S. G. O. Washington, D. C. 

May 21, 1863. 
Sir:— 

You will proceed immediately to the Army of the 
Potomac and visit the different Corps of hospitals on 
special duty connected with the collection of pathological 
specimens. Having accomplished this, you will return 
to this city, and resume your present duties. 

Very respfy. yr. Obt. Servt. 

By order of the Surgeon General, 
Jos. R. Smith, 



Surgeon, U. S. A. 



Surgeon J. H. Brinton, U. S. V., 
Washington, D. C." 



"ZiH l*irHniud MiinoirH of John II . Itrinlon. 

( >i\ llic h.'uk (jf lliis order, I have pencilled, "C)rder 
in re.dily lo ascerl.iin I he niiniIxT of casiiallies al 
( liaiK i||( ii'.villc wliM li Ii.kI licfii < < iiH eajed," and llii'. 
endorsenieni lelli, llie Inilli, wliidi I will here explain. 
( lianiclloi 'iville, a') we all know, was not a success, and 
was alleiidcd willi a iiijdHhil, and al die dale id llns 
iiidei, an nnknown loss, or al all evenis, a loss which 
jiad n<il y<l heconie known al WashinjMon, and il was 
said llial (ieneial lloukei, in (oniniand ni llie Army oi 
the I'oloniac, had ^iven orders, <ii It i me say, had in 
slrijcled all chiefs, lo wil, ihe ( hiel < )iiai leiinaster, ihe 
( liH I ( iimmi/,.ii y (tl ."^iiili'.i ,len< (', and ihe Medical 
|)ire(|or, lo withhold from VVashin^lon all reports or in- 
ftnnialion which wniild lend Id di',(lic-,e ihe < hancellors- 
ville loss, r.iit lh<- nation, and the pie/,, and llic Secre- 
tary of War, Ml. .Slanloii, wished to know the loss as 
I'U'cni'ately as it (oiild he eoinpnted or as( citaiiied. 'I he 
Seci'elaiy ol War ihrnldic dcMicd ihal an oIIkci ■.hoiiid 
be sent from the Snrj.;eon ' icneral's ollice, who Jioiild 
as far as possihle <ihlain Ihr, infoinialioii, and I was 

delailr(| Im till', dllty, lind<-| the lot ('|;oiii|; ll(lilioMS 

order, with I nil vei led iii.i mk i n iii'. 

It so liap|K-ned that .'>iii}',eoii l.<'lleiiiian, the Medical 
|)iie<loi III Ihe Atiny ol llie ritjoiiiac, had at this 
lime ( oiiie up to Wa'Jiiiij;toii, and on Ihis very evcninj.^ 
on wliii h I was to '.lait, wa', diiiiii)', with Siir^eon-den- 
etal llaiiiiiioiid in II .'^^tieet. Ilr.iiiii}; this, and thinking 
that llii III liii mat loll deared (oiild he readily |)rocnred 
from liiiii, I called at ( I )or|or ) (iiiieial llaiiimoiid's 
and Mill lip a iioir Willi my laid, a.kiii); li iiiidct llie 
circnmstaiK e. ol the Medical hiieitm lienij; m VVashing- 
toii (hen and lliere, I should still .lail lot the army in 
the lield to "(ollcil pathological spei iiiieii s." I )i I lani- 
nioiid Miilililcd on lh(- paper lor me to start at once, 



3 



rnricd l^ihors 205 

,'111(1 l(t cnllrcl ;ill llir sprciincns I citiiM. ".is lir cmild 
<<iI|(mI ikhIC fmiii llir- Mc«Ii(;il I )ir('( |( iT." 

I IMmIcI '.|m(i(|, ;iihI immcfll.ihlv l"n|< |t(i;il In /\((|lll.i 
C'rc("I<. .mkI |ii I II iimii!; llicir ;i ',nn y "M sni rcl Ikh'hc, 
.sl.'irlcd llif Inlldvviiii; <l.iv I'H (Ik- ;iiniy lic;i<l(|ii.'iilcrs, 
.sloppin^^ ;il I'"Imiii;ic (VccK. :iii(I ;iI ;iII llic f^cnenil and 
corps linspilnls. clt . wIhic llir WMiiiidcd ll.'id Ik-cii »;ii 
rird, (ir vvIm-ic inrm iikiIk iii roiKciiiiiig lliciii would 
;i( (•iiiiiiil;ilc I Mill', iii.iric ;i vpry rntiiplrtr sranli. and 

<i|)|;iiii((j d;il.l wIlH ll, l.ll'.cii Willi llic lliclll' M ;ni<|,i nj llir 

Ir.iiispni I III):; ollitfi',, |i\' i.iilio.id ,iiid Imi.iI, vv'iiild I'.ivf 
a closrly appioxiin.ilf imiiiiImi nj Ihc |iiill< (d wHiiidf'd 
III l);illlcs nj llic '..iiiic (;ciMl;il lii.iri ill I idr Mild dc .( I Ip 
lion, (he ralm <d Killed |<i vviMiiidcd is ;ilvvays alMiiil llic 
same, say "iic lo cyrry T'lnr or livr w<»ntidrd. accnrd- 
iii); I'l Mm- ii.ihiir .iiid ( ii ( iiiiislancos (d llu- ailioii, 
vvlirllici |(Mlidil III lli<- 'iprii, m lllldrr coyer, ch . I Ili.S, 
llic iiiilil.iry ',l;il (.1 K .III c.r. ily Ic.iiir;, and vvilli lixcd 
i.ilios ciiii rc;idilv j^Mlcss closidy al llic iiiiiiilici nf 
Wdiinded, (lc;id. ;iiid ini".".in(;. and lliiis al a f^ciici.d loss, 
as well as al llic iiuinlici nl men enf^i^:;rd, on <iiie or 
ImiIIi sides. Indeed, I Iii;iv !'." Inilliei, ,iiid ;isse|l, sIlsillJ^C 
as ll ni;iy seem. Ilial j;iyen a (niicil sl.ilemeni <d any 
one ( l.iss of wounds, say ol llic ,iini, m Ixidy di le^', 
llie iinjiii r;i(|', id |iis.<"s, ;iiii| llic Iniies id llie 
coiiilialanls may l»c lij;nre<| mil. pinvidiii)^; (lie slalisltes 
arc not JUTneh, in wliii li wonnds <p| llir liaeic arr ^dvrn 
al .1 snspiiiiiiis niiniiiiiiiii, vvilli ;i lehiliyc liijdi i.ilio id 
anleiioi wounds. 

As .1 f.iel, I was alile lo icpoil llie loss ol mii Imecs 
;il ( li.iiii cIIki ';ville ,il .iltniil /_',,• mo 



CHAPTER XIX 

GETTYSBURG 

After the battle of Chancellorsville, matters remained 
stationary with the Army of the Potomac. It was "all 
quiet along the Potomac." In the latter part of May 
and early part of June, however, it became evident that 
General Lee was preparing to move. At Washington, 
rumors to this effect were abroad. One cannot tell 
how such rumors arise or become known. They always 
did, however, and no matter what secrecy was observed, 
a note of premonition would sound in Washington. 
Perhaps it would arise from among the Southern sym- 
pathizers at the capital, and perhaps then gossip would 
take wings, and the cackle of the Southern wives of 
Northern or loyal men or officers would assume a shape. 
At all events, it became an open secret that an invasion 
of the North would be attempted. 

Just before the battle of Gettysburg, a number of 
officers of the English army, stationed in Quebec, I 
think, visited Washington on a professional military 
trip to see the American mode of warfare. They be- 
longed to the Scots Fusiliers. I was detailed to show 
them the workings of our Medical Department, and 
enjoyed that duty greatly. One of them was named 
Moncrieff. I paid them every attention I could, and 
when they returned to Canada, I sent them a keg of 
Virginia tobacco, a courtesy which they returned by for- 
warding me a number of British blue books. They had 

236 



Gettysburg 237 

some doubt of American valor, but meeting one of them 
after the Battle of Gettysburg, he told me that he had 
seen quite enough of our fighting, for he had looked on 
from a hilltop at Pickett's charge, and had seen the 
brigade advance and retire. In fact, I heard it said 
that at one time in the cannonade near Meade's head- 
quarters, they were not unwilling to stand behind a 
stone chimney, which, as it was not "their funeral," 
was quite the proper thing to do. I found these officers 
to be well educated, intelligent, fine fellows. 

During the march of the Southern forces north, I 
was in Washington at my office work, fitting up the 
Museum, and serving on this board and that — a general 
utility person in the office. 

The movement of the Army of Northern Virginia 
northwards towards and into Pennsylvania created a 
very great excitement and fear. Everything was un- 
certain, and it was not easy to divine the object of the 
enemy, nor to foretell how far he would go. There was 
a general feeling of doubt as to the ability of the Army 
of the Potomac to overtake him or to stop his progress. 
In Washington little that was certain was known; all 
was rumor and vague rumor. One thing, however, was 
certain, — ^the enemy had captured Chambersburg, York, 
Carlisle, and even threatened Harrisburg itself. The 
Army of the Potomac was doing its best, but it was not 
supposed at that moment to be in a very efficient con- 
dition, and the community in general had not a very 
strong faith in the capability of its leaders. 

Philadelphia was in a great state of alarm. That 
city was supposed to be the objective point of the enemy. 
Its wealth, resources, and accumulation of manufactures 
and supplies marked it as a most valuable prize to the 
Confederates. Its capture would enrich them, would 



238 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

furnish their army with food and supplies, would inter- 
rupt the mails, transit and transportation. Unless the 
Army of the Potomac could reach and bar the progress 
of the Southern force, it really did not seem as if the 
occupation of Philadelphia could be prevented. The 
enemy were almost at Harrisburg. Viewed from my 
standpoint at Washington, the occupation of Phila- 
delphia seemed quite possible. To my mind, however, 
I believed that Lee would scarcely leave the Army of 
the Potomac behind him, and that he would more likely 
fight near Harrisburg, and give us the chance, the only 
chance of salvation. Under the same circumstances, 
Grant would have struck for Philadelphia. It requires 
a great man, a great soldier, to depart from conven- 
tional rule, and by audacity to win success. The high- 
est military ability is shown in the power to conduct 
an offensive campaign. Defensive generals, if I may 
use such an expression, are many in number; they are 
the outcome of the schools. Offensive generals, on the 
contrary, are very scarce; the world's history shows but 
few in a century, and each one of them is a genius, 
governed by his own laws. That cause which is upheld 
by the greatest offensive talent will, ceteris paribus, 
dominate, and, in the long run, win. The South had 
two offensive generals, Stonewall Jackson and Joseph 
E. Johnston; possibly Longstreet might be added to the 
list. Of these the first was killed; the second from 
official distrust or envy, was trammelled and suppressed. 
The third was a lesser light. The North had Grant, 
Sheridan and Sherman. The balance of offensive mili- 
tary power was in their favor. 

I have not yet spoken of General Lee or General 
McClellan. I regard them both as grand examples of 
defensive soldiers. The defensive warfare of both was 



Gettysburg 239 

as perfect as the circumstances would allow. When they 
undertook offensive campaigns, or when offensive opera- 
tions were forced upon them, it was evident that some 
idea of defense was always in their mind, latent, and 
unrecognized, perhaps, but still there. With Grant, it 
was different, his whole notion was offense, and his 
idea of strategy was to push on and attack the enemy. 
He thought little or nothing of his rear; that could or 
must take care of itself; his endeavor was to keep his 
opponent busy by his repeated blows in front. The 
worst part of General Grant's command was in the 
rear; his most solid, compact and efficient was his front. 

Before the war broke out, I had done a good deal of 
reading on military matters, the history of Napoleon's 
wars and Marlborough's, and Cromwell's campaigns, 
etc. Among other books, I had dabbled in Jomini's 
volumes on the Art of War, and I remember on one 
occasion when I was with Grant on the Tennessee River, 
asking him what he thought of Jomini. "Doctor," he 
said, "I have never read it carefully; the art of war is 
simple enough; find out where your enemy is, get at 
him as soon as you can, and strike him as hard as you 
can, and keep moving on." When I asked him at Fort 
Donelson what was to prevent the enemy from attack- 
ing and capturing his rear, he replied, "He is not think- 
ing of that, we'll keep the front busy." 

When Philadelphia was threatened, and as soon as I 
became convinced that its occupation was possible, if 
not probable, I became greatly disturbed about the wel- 
fare of my Mother and sisters, and the safety of our 
home. All of my letters to my mother at that time are 
filled with advice what to do. I counselled her to draw 
money out of the bank, and then as soon as Harrisburg 
should be occupied, or our own city otherwise threat- 



240 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

ened, to go north to the White Mountains, taking with 
her in separate trunks our important papers, such as the 
estate books, and a number of unrecorded deeds of old 
lots, and our title papers generally, and our index of 
deeds, etc. Then, whatever happened, we would be 
comparatively safe; we would have our deeds, and the 
land could not be burned or destroyed. 

As it happened, the immediate necessity of the family 
hurrying away did not arise; our city was not cap- 
tured, and our records lay in their accustomed dust safely 
through the eventful summer of 1863. 

Immediately after the battle of Gettysburg, I was 
ordered by the Surgeon-General to go there on special 
duty. There was, then, two or three days after the 
fight, some difficulty in reaching Gettysburg from the 
south, the Washington side. The railroad had been 
cut in a good many places, and the enemy was retreat- 
ing across the Maryland line in the direction of the 
Potomac. There was much delay, and the transporta- 
tion was rough. I remember going, I think, from Han- 
over Junction, in the night, in a box-car, in which were 
one or two horses loose, untied. I slept in the straw 
on the floor perfectly safe. It was wonderful to see 
the instinct of the poor brutes. How careful they were 
of their feet, and how they seemed to try not to tread 
on anyone, or injure them with their hoofs. And here, 
by the way, I may say that the horse has the greatest 
dread of the prone human figure. You cannot make 
him tread on the body of a man, or upon that of a 
dead horse or mule. I have tried to make a horse do 
this, by the spur at Jefferson City, Mo., in 1864, but 
have never succeeded. He will shy off fiercely and 
widely, and if forcibly and persistently spurred on, he 
will leap the dreaded object. The inanimate prone body, 



Gettysburg 241 

he appears to hold in more horror than the living, but 
it may be said that he will not approach these, if he 
can get around them. A cavalry major, serving in the 
West, once told me that on one occasion, just prior 
to entering action, he was riding with one or two 
squadrons rapidly down a narrow lane, being about to 
debouch in the open, when his horse tumbled or fell, 
throwing him to the ground in the very roadbed of 
the lane. To him, death seemed inevitable, for he 
thought he would be crushed and trodden by the horses' 
feet. He closed his eyes in horror, when after a few 
seconds, finding that he continued unhurt, he opened his 
eyes and saw to his amazement that each horse on ap- 
proaching him at full speed, deliberately and dexterously 
jumped, so as to clear him, and leave him unharmed. 
The entire force thus passed over him, the only injury 
he received being a slight scratch on the hand, owing 
to an involuntary motion he made during one of the 
horse's leaps. This peculiarity of the horse is not known 
to everyone, and certainly was not known to the poet 
Campbell when he wrote : 

"Their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain!" 

In this box-car going from Hanover Junction, I met 
my old friend Dr. Ellerslie Wallace, in search of the 
body of a friend, the husband of a connection of my 
own, who had been killed in the battle. Arrived at 
Gettysburg, I found quarters, I think, at the Medical 
Purveyor's, and busied myself for several days in visit- 
ing the hospitals in the town, in the churches and public 
buildings, and also the large field hospitals which had 
been organized outside of the town. These hospitals 
were generally in good condition, and accommodated 



242 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

large numbers of wounded. A good many of the 
enemy's wounded were gathered into one hospital under 
the care of their surgeons. As I approached this hos- 
pital, operations were being performed at the operating 
tent under the trees, and from the peculiar manner in 
which the amputating knife was held, I recognized one 
of my old students. He was about to amputate a limb, 
and was drawing the knife in the peculiar manner which 
I had been in the habit of teaching, and which I had 
been taught by the military surgeon, Dienstl, in the 
dissecting and operating room in the military hospitals at 
Vienna. I was very warmly received by the Confederate 
surgeon, and his friends, a very good set of fellows, 
whom I was glad to meet with. Professional brother- 
hood is, I think, the strongest bond in the world, and 
my whole experience in our war convinced me more 
and more of this. 

In my rides during these days, I had ample oppor- 
tunities of seeing the field of battle, and of forming an 
idea of the fierceness of the struggle. In one of my 
rides on an old white horse, somewhere, I think in the 
direction of Cemetery Hill, I tried to ride across a 
slough or marsh of soft black mud. It was treacherous, 
and my horse sank slowly and steadily until his legs were 
buried and his body even began to sink. He could not 
in spite of all his struggles get out, and I began to 
have serious apprehensions as to the outcome for horse 
and man. I sank, too, but fortunately being near the 
shore, I scrambled to dry and firm land, and by pulling 
on my bridle, managed to extricate the beast. He was 
a white horse no longer, for he had floundered on his 
side and looked as if he had received a coat of tar. 
For myself, I was in pitiable plight; nothing was left 
for me save to reach my quarters, and go to bed while 



Gettysburg 243 

my clothes were being washed and cleaned and dried, 
for I had no others. 

The town of Gettysburg was filled with hospitals and 
stores for the wounded, surgeons and their assistants, 
who were coming to see a real battle-ground, newspaper 
men in abundance, and a crowd of Sanitary and Christian 
Commissioners, who wandered about everywhere, and 
kept remarkably good tables at the houses which they 
regarded as their headquarters. Crowds of citizens 
were there from neighboring country and town, and 
many from Philadelphia. Some of these came under 
pretext of seeing friends, but many more drawn by 
curiosity. A great many were in search of relics or 
"trophies," as they called them, from the battlefield; 
shot, shell, bayonets, guns, and every sort of military 
portable property. The gathering and taking away of 
such objects was strictly forbidden by military proclama- 
tion, all articles being regarded as belonging for the time 
being to the military authorities and under their care. 
Finally, it was decided to put a stop to this "trophy" 
business. Guards were instructed to arrest purloiners, 
and take away the articles ; but even this did not answer, 
stolen articles were concealed in the clothes and pack- 
ages. The Provost Marshal (whom I knew, a Captain 
Smith, a relative of General Halleck's), then determined 
to put an end to the practice, and therefore ordered the 
arrest and detention of all persons found with contra- 
band articles in their possession. This order gave much 
annoyance to visitors, who still attempted to evade it. 
So the Provost Marshal resorted to the rather sum- 
mary process of sending delinquents, or those disobey- 
ing his orders, out to the field of battle, to assist in 
burying dead horses, — not a pleasant duty. This gave 
rise to trouble at once, and to threats of exceeding 



244 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

fierceness. I saw one squad about to start on march for 
the field, five or six miles on a hot July morning, — in 
which was a loquacious gentleman, of portly presence, 
who had been caught with a U. S. musket, as a battle 
trophy, in his hands; deep was his wrath and eloquent 
his protest and fierce his threats at sending him, "a 
gentleman and a member of the legislature of this 
state" to do such disgusting work. He promised to 
have all concerned in issuing the orders dismissed, but 
he had to make the march all the same, and at least 
go through the formality of "burying dead horses." 

This energetic treatment put a stop to the practice 
of looting arms. Whether it was worth the trouble 
and hard feeling excited, I hardly know. It was almost 
incredible, however, to what an extent this trophy mania 
had spread. One farmer near the field absolutely con- 
cealed a six-pound gun, letting it down into his well. 

The battle-ground occupied the farms which lay be- 
yond the town for miles. A good many of the farmers 
were Germans, — I'm afraid of a low type and mean, 
sordid disposition. Their great object in this life, 
seemed to be to hoard money, and their behavior to- 
ward our troops and our wounded soldiers, was often 
mean beyond belief. As an instance, I might relate this 
case. As I was riding along the country road, I met 
a shabby buggy driven by a mean-looking German, and 
carrying two wounded soldiers. Noticing that the ban- 
dage on one of them was too tight, and had caused 
much swelling, I stopped the vehicle and learned this 
story. They had been wounded on the farni (one of 
considerable size, 176 acres) belonging to their driver, 
the owner of the buggy. They had been there for a 
day or two and were anxious to reach the field hos- 
pital of their command, some distance. They could not 



Gettysburg 245 

walk, and their host (if such a term can be used), 
finally consented to take them to the hospital, as I 
saw he was doing, if they would give him a silver watch, 
and such trifles as they carried on their person, for 
pay. I wrote a little note, stating the facts, and directed 
them all to the Provost Marshal's guard, not far behind 
me. I afterwards had the satisfaction of learning that 
the horse and buggy and shabby driver, had the oppor- 
tunity of affording gratuitous transportation for a week 
to the sick and wounded under the supervision of the 
Marshal's Guard, and that the watch, etc., were returned 
to their original owners. I could only hope that the 
lesson of forced patriotism would prove lasting. 

As usual after battles, many of the killed were buried 
in trenches or pits. One of my men on this occasion 
took from the body of a Southern soldier, a breast plate 
of soft steel, in two halves, intended to be worn under 
the coat or vest. One ball had struck it and indented 
or bent it without perforation. Another, if I remember 
rightly, had passed through in the region of the liver, 
causing the death of the wearer. I think the breast- 
plate bore the imprint *'Ames Manufacturing Company." 
This cuirass was placed in the Army Museum, and I 
suppose is there now. It was the only example of de- 
fensive armor I met with during the war. 

I have spoken of the burials en masse. Many of the 
bodies, however, were buried singly where it was pos- 
sible. In visiting the hospitals I entered one in the 
suburbs of the town, which I was informed was much 
exposed at one time during the battle of the crossfire 
of the respective sharp shooters, or outlying pickets of 
the two armies. In the churchyard, at one corner of 
the church building, I observed a number of new made 
graves, arranged with the greatest precision, each one 



246 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

of them being- provided with a head board and foot 
board, made of shingles, the former bearing the name, 
rank, company and regiment of the man beneath. The 
head boards were exactly alike, the lines for the in- 
scription and the styles for the lettering being alike in 
all cases. These men, I was told, were buried at a 
time when the hospital was directly in the line of cross 
fire on both sides, and the sepulture was directed by a 
medical officer. Struck with the remarkable adherence, 
in all these cases, to the regulations and customs of the 
army service, I inquired of the hospital steward, my 
informant, "Was this medical officer tall and thin, in 
exact uniform, and did he expose himself during the 
burial," "Yes, sir, and he read the service for the dead, 
the burial service over them?" "Was his name Bache?" 
• I asked, feeling instinctively that such military rigidity 
could only be found in that family. "Yes, sir," — and 
then I knew that my old friend. Surgeon Thos. H. 
Bache, U. S. Vols, must be the officer indicated, — and 
it was so. The Army Regulations had been scrupulously 
complied with. 

Our loss at Gettysburg was heavy but as the battle 
was fought on our land, and as we remained masters 
of the field, we had every opportunity for the care of 
the wounded in large hospitals, and for their proper 
transportation. My duty at this time was twofold, 
first to render what help I could surgically, and secondly, 
to collect specimens and histories for the Museum. I 
was able to gather much for the Museum, and for the 
most part the medical officers were anxious to further 
me in my endeavors to carry out my Washington in- 
structions. By the i6th or 17th of July, I had returned 
to Washington, and resumed my office duties. 



CHAPTER XX 

OF THINGS MEDICAL AND MILITARY AT WASHINGTON 

I spent the entire summer of 1863 at Peter Place on 
Georgetown Heights, which I have already described. 
The place, beautiful as it was, with the remains of for- 
mer grandeur, was essentially southern in its tone. The 
family to which it had belonged, were all in the southern 
service, and its associations and surroundings were es- 
pecially "Secesh." My friend Scull, of the Subsistence 
Department, and I had rooms in an outlying building, 
which I rather think was intended for the domestics 
in bygone times. 

I will not say that we boarded at Peter Place. 
"Boarder" is almost a vulgar word, not in consonance 
with the stateliness of the Mansion; we simply slept 
there in the aforesaid wing, and "took our meals" in 
the dining-room with the big folding windows down to 
the ground, looking out on the high portico; we ate 
quietly and demurely, not talking much, never alluding 
to the war or army, or battles or marches. Uniform 
was not worn; we were simply citizens, enjoying the 
cool air of Georgetown Heights. The compensation 
was managed by Scull, who prided himself on his deli- 
cacy, the exact amount of our indebtedness (in clean 
notes) being placed in a note envelope, with the com- 
pliments of Majors Scull and Brinton, and handed to 
the waiter. An equally refined acknowledgment of its 

247 



248 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

receipt would reach us the next day by the black Mer- 
cury. 

With all its formality and absurdities, Peter Place 
was a delightful spot on these summer evenings, and I 
thoroughly enjoyed sitting under the trees, and smoking 
a pipe or cigar after dinner. The rides around George- 
town, too, were very pretty. General Halleck lived 
in a large house, not very far from where I was stay- 
ing. He used to walk in and out to the War Department 
every day. I often met him and exchanged greetings, 
and once or twice walked with him, but he was not very 
companionable and was undoubtedly an overestimated 
man. 

In the latter part of August, 1863, I served again 
as President of the Army Medical Board, for the ex- 
amination of candidates for admission into the corps 
of Surgeons of Volunteers, the former "Brigade Sur- 
geons." This was the same board on which I had served 
when I first came to Washington. As I have explained, 
the discharge of its functions was a somewhat delicate 
one, owing to the fact that medical officers were so badly 
wanted, and that pressure would be brought upon the 
board to relax its standard of qualifications. On one 
occasion, not long after I came to Washington when 
I was the presiding officer of the Board, we were ex- 
amining a curious creature from Kansas, who was an 
applicant for the appointment of Brigade Surgeon. He 
was a man of more than middle age, apparently self 
educated, and evidently had been through many vicissi- 
tudes in life. At that time, each candidate was obliged 
to file a short written autobiography, and his began 
in this way: "My first recollections of myself are that 
I was found as a little baby, on an emigrant trail on 
the prairie. Since that time, I have done a little of every- 



Things Medical and Military at Washington 249 

thing. My qualifications are various. I can do almost 
anything, from scalping an Indian, up and down. I 
hope if I know enough, that you'll pass me, gentlemen." 

This person was a friend of the then well known and 
eccentric Senator from Kansas, "Jim" Lane, who did 
the Board the honor of a visit, and after a self intro- 
duction, said "I'm Senator Lane, Jim Lane of Kansas, 
and I'm interested in this Board. I've a friend before 
it, and what I want to know is this, are you a passing 
Board or a rejecting Board?" We assured him we would 
do the best we could in his friend's case, and fortunately 
we were able to act up to his wishes without strain of 
conscience. His friend, whose knowledge of the English 
language and spelling was undoubtedly limited, was 
nevertheless singularly well up in the practical parts of 
the profession; he had lived all his life in the West and 
practiced there, and so he passed the Board with a recom- 
mendation to the Secretary of War that "he be assigned 
to duty in Kansas." He really proved to be one of the 
most practical men in the service. 

In November of 1863, I served upon a Board of 
Medical Directors to consider the defects of the ex- 
isting system of reports of sick and wounded, and to de- 
vise some means for a more efficient and accurate sys- 
tem of hospital registration; and here I might say a 
few words on the defects of the hospital registers, and 
on the difficulties encountered in the early part of the 
war in obtaining accurate reports and accounts of the 
wounded. 

As I have stated, when the war broke out the only 
return or description of gunshot wounds was that un- 
der the heading of "milniis scloperticum" on the general 
sick report, furnished by the medical officers on duty 
in every command, and at every post and hospital, and 



250 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

which were, of course, entirely vague and too indefinite 
to convey any accurate intelhgence as to the extent and 
character of an injury. As soon as I was assigned to 
the preparation of the Surgical History of the War, I 
tried to help matters by subdividing the gunshot wounds 
into various classifications ; but this did not answer much 
better, as duplication was apt to occur from the con- 
stant removal of wounded from one hospital to another, 
as from a small field hospital to a division or corps 
field general hospital, and thence to a city hospital, and 
thence perhaps to state hospitals in the neighborhood of 
the patient's home. 

Some other system of registration and report was 
evidently necessary. At Antietam I met Deputy Inspec- 
tor General Muir, of the British Service, whose ex- 
perience with sick and wounded had been large. I told 
him the difficulties we labored under in obtaining ac- 
curate statistics. He then suggested to me the adoption 
of something like the British medical descriptive paper, 
a blank which is filled up when the wounded man comes 
under treatment, and which then goes with him, and 
accompanies him in all his transportation, and which 
in case of death or recovery is then forwarded to the 
central medical bureau, which in our case would be the 
Surgeon General's Office. This plan seemed feasible, 
and it was determined to give it a trial. I was accord- 
ingly ordered to have printed 100,000 of these medical 
descriptive lists, adapted to our service. These were 
then distributed, and Medical Directors were requested 
to endeavor to have them filled up by the medical of- 
ficers at hospitals under their control. Perfect in theory, 
and well adapted for wars where the wounded were 
comparatively few, and the medical force numerous, 
this system of registration of sick and wounded failed 



Things Medical and Military at Washington 251 

utterly with us. Our medical officers were overworked 
by the enormous numbers of our wounded, and the ex- 
igencies of the time demanded a too continuous and rapid 
transportation of wounded from the front to northern 
hospitals. The notice of transportation, too, was too 
short; at all events this system did not work. It failed, 
and in consequence a Board was convened, under the 
following order: 

"Surg. Genl. Office, Washington City, D. C. 
Nov. 6, 1863. 

A Board of Officers to consist of Surgeons J. H. Brin- 
ton, J. A. Sidell, U. S. V. ; Assistant Surgeons Roberts 
Bartholow, J. J. Woodward, and Wm. Thomson, 
U. S. A., will assemble at the Surgeon General's Office 
on Monday, November 9th, or as soon thereafter as 
practicable to consider and report upon proposed modi- 
fications, in registers and returns for sick and wounded, 
and the diet table prescribed for the U. S. General Hos- 
pitals. 

By order Acting Surgeon General, 

(Signed) "C. H. Crane," 

Surgeon, U. S. A. 
Surgeon J. H. Brinton, U. S. V. 
Surgeon General's Office." 

The action of this Board was the adoption of the 
form of registers which continued in use until the end 
of the war, on which every case was minutely entered, 
in whatever hospital the man might be. A comparison 
of the registers was necessary to prevent duplication, and 
for this purpose a large clerical force was maintained 
in the Surgeon General's Office. The blanks for these 
reports were printed in Philadelphia by J. B. Lippincott 



252 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

& Co., and I had the pleasure of running on to order 
them. Dr. John Neill, then a Surgeon, U. S. V., had the 
after-superintendence. They proved a success. 

Once or twice during the summer and autumn of 1863, 
I had the opportunity of visiting Philadelphia. In fact, 
Dr. Hammond, when in full power, had told me that 
when the business of the office and army affairs were 
not very demanding or urgent, I might slip on to Phila- 
delphia, and stay over Sunday, provided I would be in 
my place in the office by nine o'clock on Monday morn- 
ing. Of course, on these clandestine visits home, I wore 
a civilian's dress, with nothing about me which could 
possibly indicate my military functions. 

Somewhat later than this, I had occasion to employ 
a government detective to hunt up a deserter, who, act- 
ing as my orderly, had stolen nearly all my decent cloth- 
ing. He was a clever scoundrel, and while acting as 
my body servant or valet, had drawn my attention to 
many necessary repairs on my outer clothing. At the 
same time he pointed out some defects on my linen, and 
flannel underwear. He kindly offered to have all defects 
remedied, and the mending, generally, thoroughly done. 
He knew a nice German seamstress. The laundrying 
he hardly thought was up to the grade of my linen, so 
he had that attended to also at a very moderate rate, 
carefully and in a proper businesslike spirit; he even 
brought me back six cents change. My silk (civilian's) 
hat he had ironed, and all my shoes neatly cobbled. I 
was quite nicely fitted out, as good as new, and then 
when all was complete, he disappeared, and with him all 
my clothing and toilet apparatus, and even my tooth 
brush. He left me nothing save what I had on, not 
even an extra handkerchief, and he went away on a 
rainy day, and I had a bad cold. Such a desertion of 



Things Medical and Military at Washington 253 

his colors was not to be tolerated by the United States 
Government, and I was directed to put the case in the 
hands of the Provost Marshal's Department, and to have 
him arrested at any cost, as desertion from a Bureau of 
the War Department could not be overlooked. So one 
or two U. S. detectives were placed at my beck and 
call, but nothing was accomplished. He was seen in 
bad company in New York, but he evidently had some 
recognition of the detective, and he escaped by good 
running. The last we knew of him, he had found his 
way safely to Canada. 

To return to the detective service, I learned from 
one of its members that all outgoing trains from Wash- 
ington were watclied, to stop unauthorized flitting of 
officers. "Do you ever find any transgressing in that 
respect?" I asked. "Yes, Doctor," he replied, "we often 
do. For example, we see that nearly every Saturday 
evening, you go to your home in Philadelphia, and re- 
turn every Monday morning by the night train, but 
our orders are not to stop you, as it is all right." 

The autumn and winter of 1863, and the early months 
of 1864, were passed by me very pleasantly in Wash- 
ington. I had my daily routine of office work, some 
leisure in the afternoons, and in the evening, time for 
social amusements. At all ordinary times, I was at the 
Surgeon-General's about nine o'clock in the morning. 
There I attended to my duties proper, until about one 
o'clock. Then I usually lunched simply at Wormley's 
restaurant, a glass of wine and a slice of cold meat was 
all I took. My friends. Scull and Moss, usually lunched 
at the same time and place. Then after lunch, I would 
drop in at the Museum building, look after the running 
of Museum matters, then take my horse, visit some one 
of the many hospitals in and around Washington, and 



254 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

later in the afternoon, ride with my friends. The rides 
around Washington were pretty, and on pleasant after- 
noons, nothing could be more pleasant than a gallop out 
Seventh or Fourteenth Street, or in the lanes leading 
from Georgetown Heights. When I first went to Wash- 
ington, I bought a sorrel horse but I'm afraid he was 
not of very good breeding, for his sole accomplishment 
was a canter, easy, but not very stylish. I afterwards 
became somewhat ashamed of him, and bought another 
beast, — one of great style. He was raised somewhere 
in western New York, of "Royal George" ancestry, 
whatever that may be. He was quite large and very 
handsome. I paid four hundred dollars for him, and 
was told he was a bargain. He had been brought to 
Washington, intended as a present for the officer in- 
specting the purchase of horses — in other words a bribe 
horse. The gift being rejected, he was to be sold for 
what he would bring, and I foolishly bought him, 
tempted by his beauty. But ''handsome is as handsome 
does," and this brute was an incarnate fiend. After 
owning him a short time, I felt that I could safely and 
honestly warrant him to possess every vice, trick and 
bad habit which any horse could inherit from mischiev- 
ous ancestors, or develop by innate wickedness. He 
would bite, kick, bolt, shy, rear, plunge back (in a sud- 
den and startling manner), buck- jump (artistically), 
take the bit in his teeth and run, plunge his head down 
obstinately, and then raise it and strike his rider's nose 
in a wonderful fashion. He understood all about spurs, 
and if he felt them he would bite at the leg. You couldn't 
ride him without strong leathers, and he had a strange 
horror of boastful riders. He would throw a jockey 
or groom without hesitation. I once allowed a Hun- 
garian, who had served for years in the Austrian ser- 



Things Medical and Military at Washington 255 

vice, and two terms of enlistment in the U. S. Cavalry, 
to mount him. The beast eyed him on his approach, 
and laid back his ears, but permitted the man quietly to 
mount him. The next moment the horse was in the air, 
and there was a strange and complicated movement of 
his forelegs, and he then stood quiet and riderless. The 
Hungarian had been shot from the saddle, and fortu- 
nately landed on a pile of manure in the corner of the 
yard. And yet this beast let me ride him in compara- 
tive quiet, only backing and bolting now and then, and 
then, too, in no very vicious spirit. I was afraid of 
him, and he knew it, and he seemed content to let mat- 
ters rest on that basis. I kept him until I left Washing- 
ton. With difficulty, he was sold to a cabman, and 
ran away with the carriage and injured his mate. A 
milkman bought him, and he broke the wagon and 
spilled the milk. Finally, he was sold for fifty dollars 
to the street car company. I heard no further particu- 
lars of his adventures, except in a general way that he 
lived up to his previous bad reputation. 

In the summer of 1863, I hade visit from my cousin, 
Charles Coxe. He had gone into the service a boy, 
was now maturing into a good cavalry officer, and was 
a very manly fellow. The more I saw of him in the 
war, the more I thought of him. 

In the early part of September I moved into Wash- 
ington from Georgetown. Changes were occurring in 
the Surgeon-General's Office. Dr. Hammond, or as we 
used to say General Hammond (the Surgeon-General 
had the rank of Brigadier General), had gotten into 
trouble with Mr. Stanton, the Secretary of War, and 
had been sent off south in partibiis oripedium on a 
sort of inspecting tour, banished from Washington, and 
I may say here, that he never returned to his official 



256 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

duties at the capital. He was hardly treated, for he 
was not guilty of any wrongdoing; he simply could 
not get along with the Secretary, and, so to speak, ran 
his head against the wall. His case dragged on, he was 
tried by Court Martial and cashiered. Court Martials 
sound well, but often do injustice, especially if packed, 
or when desirous of finding in accordance with higher 
authority. At the time of the sitting of the Court Mar- 
tial, I was lunching every day at Wormley's restaurant. 
One morning, as one of the members of the Court came 
in to take his luncheon, some one present said, "How 
are you. General, this morning?" "Sir," said the Gen- 
eral, "I have been fast asleep all the morning in my chair 
at that damned Hammond court martial. I did not hear 
a word." And he was a prominent member of the court. 
The finding was foregone. The disabilities of the 
sentence were years afterwards annulled by Act of Con- 
gress, and General Hammond restored to the Army, and 
placed on the retired list as Brig.-Surg.-Gen. retired, 
27th Aug. 1879, without pay or allowance under act 
of March 15, 1878. 



CHAPTER XXI 

NO ARMY MEDICAL SCHOOL — ^^METROPOLITAN CLUB 

Here I must say something about one of the great 
disappointments of my Hfe. It was connected with a 
proposed Army Medical School, like the British School 
at Netley. It had been an idea of Surgeon-General Ham- 
mond's in the plenitude of his power, and at the time 
when he was most enthusiastic, and it seemed to me 
then, and to all of the medical officers of the old army, 
who were consulted, that the scheme was a good one, 
to found a medical school, the professors of which should 
be medical officers in the army, and the object of which 
should be the instruction of graduates-in-medicine, that 
is, doctors in the medical branches of military medicine 
and surgery, and in the customs of the service. It was 
intended to teach them how soldiers should be looked 
after in health, on marches, in camp, how they should 
be treated when sick or wounded, how cared for in 
hospitals or in the field, and how properly transported. 
All of this knowledge was usually obtained only by ac- 
tual service and by bungling experience. Now, if this 
experience could only be imparted to the young medical 
man about to begin his military life, much would be 
gained in point of time, in efficiency of service, and in 
care of the soldier. Our experience in the early part 
of the war taught us, and I speak very positively of 
myself, how hard it was for a medical man who had 
just donned his uniform, to learn the mysteries of ob- 

i57 



258 Personal Memoirs of John H, Brinton 

taining food from the subsistence department, or of 
stores and transportation from the quartermaster, how 
to obtain an ambulance, or to find horses, or to procure 
forage, how even to obtain medicines from the purveyor, 
and how to take care of them when received, how to 
draw a hospital tent, how to pitch it, how to keep it 
standing and comfortable for the sick. 

Then, too, it was an art very different from that 
known to the doctor of civil life to treat a sick or 
wounded soldier, to make the best of opportunities, to 
cure rapidly, and to return him well and fit for duty to 
his command at the earliest moment. These and thou- 
sands of other matters, it should be the function of 
the military Medical School through experienced in- 
structors, to teach the young surgeon or medical cadet, 
or even the hospital steward. 

To assist in this end the Army Museum, with its un- 
rivalled collection of specimens of pathological anatomy, 
of every sort of medical appliances, suitable for mihtary 
life, of models of camps, tents, hospitals and transpor- 
tation by land and water, could have been turned to 
good account under a wise administration. 

As I have said, the foundation of such a school had 
been a favorite project of Surgeon-General Hammond, 
and under his general instructions, I had fitted up the 
rooms beneath the main hall of the Museum (Corco- 
ran's Building) for teaching purposes. There was a 
charming lecture room, with sloping seats, a couple of 
convenient little retiring rooms or laboratories, a good 
stage to speak from, and a well constructed lecture and 
revolving table. The illustrations, in lavish profusion, 
were in the main hall above, and everything was ready 
for the first military medical course of the United States 
Army for the session of 1863-64. It wanted but the 



, ! 



No Army Medical School 259 

authorization of the scheme by the Secretary of War, 
and the appointment of the lecturers or professors. 

These had in truth been selected. There was Coolidge 
of the regular army, an old officer, to teach the customs 
of the service and military medical ethics; Surgeon Si- 
dell, U. S. v., as a teacher of chemical surgery; and 
Assistant Surgeon William Thomson, since famous as 
an oculist, and Assistant Surgeon J. J. Woodward, U. 
S. A., on military medicine; and also Roberts Bartholow 
of world-wide reputation, and several others, whose 
names have escaped me. Gunshot injuries had been as- 
signed to me; my pictures were painted in gorgeous 
style, and even my introductory remarks had been jotted 
down. 

In the meantime, Surgeon-General Hammond had 
been sent away, and Acting Surgeon Barnes reigned in 
his stead. As Curator of the Museum, I reported to him 
the forward state of preparation. The Secretary of 
War was to be informed. He was told by Mr. Barnes. 
He said he would "decide the matter and speak of it 
to-morrow." On the morrow, about nine o'clock, on 
his drive from his home to the war office, he stopped 
at the Museum Building, descended from his carriage, 
ran hastily through the Museum rooms, looked angrily 
at the dear little lecture room, stamped his foot, growled, 
"Ugh," drove to his office, sent for Acting Surgeon Gen- 
eral Barnes and said sharply to him, "Are these lectures 
to be given in the evenings?" To an affirmative reply, 
he growled, "They will go to the theatre and neglect 
their duties. It shan't be," and thus was the end of a 
favorite plan for doing some good for the Medical 
Corps of the Army, and for disseminating a more cor- 
rect and general knowledge of military medicine and 
surgery. 



260 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Sometime in the winter of 1863-64, I became a mem- 
ber of the newly estabHshed MetropoHtan Club, and in 
a short time I was appointed one of the governors. This 
club then was the only one in Washington, and had 
acquired the house lately ocupied by Baron Gerault, the 
Minister from Prussia. Many of the high officers of 
Government, secretaries of the cabinet and men of in- 
ferior grade, auditors and the like, joined it, also many 
of the diplomatic corps, especially the younger mem- 
bers and attaches. It was a pleasant place to dine, to 
smoke, to play billiards, and spend an evening. There, 
too, one met many men prominent in Washington life, 
some from their individuality, and some from the pub- 
lic positions they held. I recall thus to my mind, Messrs. 
Nicolay and John Hay, the private secretaries of Presi- 
dent Lincoln, Mr. Chase, the Secretary of the Treas- 
ury, popularly known as "Old Greenbacks," Secretary 
McCullough, and Mr. Chas. Sumner. 

McCullough I met often. He belonged to a social 
club, to which I was often invited, and which met at 
members' houses, — I think on Saturday evening. On 
one occasion I was late, and as I entered, Mr. McCul- 
lough said to me, "Doctor, you are just in time to de- 
cide an important question, we are voting as to which 
design for an engraving for a greenback we shall se- 
lect. We are evenly divided, — now which do you choose? 
Give your casting vote." I did so and I think I voted 
for "Columbus landing" or something of that sort, and 
so the choice was made. I never saw these notes after- 
wards without a feeling of sponsorial affection. 

For some time my seat at table was next to Charles 
Sumner, who struck me as a dreadful pedant, always 
reading proof between soup and fish, and speaking 



No Army Medical School 261 

French, bad French, to the diplomats at table, who 
usually spoke English perfectly. 

This club was a dangerous place for an officer of the 
army, and I came to grief from too open an expression 
of opinion, as I shall explain when I come to speak of 
why I left Washington. 

In November, 1863, I remember an old squib or pub- 
lication called the "New Gospel of Peace," a burlesque, 
if I remember rightly, on the peace movements, — a Cop- 
perhead program that the enemies of the government 
were starting at this time. In the "New Gospel" a good 
deal is said of the exploits and character of one "Ulysses, 
surnamed Unculpsalm." It attracted considerable at- 
tention at its first appearance, and I sent a copy of it 
to General Grant. The idea of making him Lieutenant 
General, reviving Scott's rank, was at this time much 
talked of, and was in fact done in the early part of 
March, 1864, General Grant, then in command of the 
Armies, being appointed by the President and confirmed 
by the Senate as Lieutenant General, March loth, 1864. 

At this time, I had an ambulance to take me from 
place to place. All understrappers, like myself, had every 
convenience, ambulance and other concomitants of mili- 
tary luxury, pertaining to official life. In reality, bureau 
officers and attaches had more attendants in waiting 
than even the President himself, or at all events, 
than Mr. Lincoln had. I remember very well that Mr. 
Nicolay told me at the club that President Lincoln was 
very badly off for personal attendance. He only had 
one or two civil attendants or messengers in his hall. 
He was so conscientious that he would not allow sol- 
diers to be detailed for his personal service. The men 
he employed were overworked, and often he had diffi- 
culty in dispatching really important public business. 



262 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Nicolay told me that he had not even stationery enough 
for the office work. 

During the winter of 1863-64, the Army of the Po- 
tomac was quiet. At Washington, military affairs 
seemed at a standstill, gaiety was at its height, society 
had by this time become more settled, and, as it were, 
had crystallized. The old "before the war" society had 
disappeared, or shrunk into the background. Before 
and at the outbreak of the war, "society" at the capital 
was Southern in tone. This society then represented the 
wealth and culture of the city. The war came, — the 
most active Southern sympathizers went South, and 
joined formally the Confederate cause. A few of the 
old people remained in quiet and comparative obscurity, 
but always on the lookout for news, and probably send- 
ing much useful intelligence to friends at the South. 
Some of these people regarded themselves as neutral, but 
I am sure that in feeling and sympathy they clung to the 
South, and to their former traditions. 

Under the excitement of the war, strangers from the 
loyal states flocked to Washington, and soon formed 
for themselves a new society. These newcomers were 
composed of the fresh republicans and their friends, 
military officers, stationed at and around Washington, 
and their families in part, and government officials of 
all grades, at first a somewhat motley lot. Then, there 
was a constant tide of contractors of all sorts, people 
seeking to make money. 

Thus constituted, the general society of Washington 
was at first somewhat peculiar. It was smart, quick, 
bright, but it was wanting in homogeneity, and the old- 
fashioned indolence and polish. By degrees, as time 
elapsed, it became less evanescent and changing, and 
more settled and systematized. But still there remained 



No Army Medical School 263 

in feeling, if not in fact, two circles, — one, the society 
of Washington, the centers being the White House, the 
houses of the cabinet officers, and the diplomatic man- 
sions; the other, a circle of old-fashioned people, very 
quiet and nice and hospitable to well-introduced stran- 
gers, but silent on the events of the day. If by any 
chance, they expressed an opinion, it was very tender 
in their judgment of the South, and strong in their 
admiration of General Lee, and "President Davis." 

By good luck, I was fortunate to have the entree 
everywhere, thanks to the kindness of a sister-in-law of 
a friend, a woman of bright disposition and handsome 
person, clever, and well bred, who knew everyone, and 
went everywhere, and who just at that time was glad 
to have an escort. She left my cards everywhere, and 
at once I was effectually introduced. Cards of invitation 
poured in on me, and I fully availed myself of my good 
fortune. I remember frequently visiting at the White 
House. The young ladies prominent in society would 
fix on an evening, and with a sacred few, call, half infor- 
mally, on Mrs. Lincoln. The ladies of the cabinet gave 
a good many state receptions, and oftentimes quiet little 
gatherings for the young people. At the houses of Sena- 
tors Morgan (of New York), Dixon (of Connecticut), 
Reverdy Johnson (of Maryland), and many others, I 
was a frequent visitor. Commodore Wilkes, who cir- 
cumnavigated the world, and afterwards came to official 
grief in the matter of Mason and Slidell and the Trent 
affair, had a charming old house, where I spent many a 
pleasant evening with Mr. Coolidge, and the Morris fam- 
ily, — the famous Morris who went down on the Cum- 
berland, with the United States flag still flying at the 
mast head, at Fortress Monroe. Another house at which 
I visited frequently was that of Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas, 



264 Personal 3Iemoirs of John H. Brinton 

the famous beauty and widow of the western poHtician. 
She was formerly a Miss Cutts, a beautiful and clever 
woman, who exercised great and widespread influence 
by virtue of her intellect, good looks and name. It was 
a delightful house to visit, and one met there many 
prominent personages of the day, especially men in and 
around the government. Conversation on political top- 
ics was very free, and there was less constraint than at 
any house in the city to which I had access. People 
could and did say in her parlor things touching passing 
events, which they could not speak elsewhere. Usually 
one in Government employ had to be very careful of his 
words, as I afterwards found out to my cost. 



CHAPTER XXII 

THE PRESIDENT AND SOME LESSER DIGNITARIES 

I daresay my readers will naturally ask what I saw of 
Mr. Lincoln, our President, who will go down to pos- 
terity as one of the great personages of history. Over 
and over again, I was presented to him on official occa- 
sions, and once I amputated at the shoulder joint, the 
arm of a soldier at a hospital in Washington, which 
the President was visiting at the time. He was greatly 
interested, but evidently had little fondness for surgery. 
At the conclusion of the operation, a younger surgeon, 
who had been watching me, expressed with some enthusi- 
asm and in a voice audible to the President, his con- 
gratulations upon the operation, and I remember well 
being startled by the voice of the President behind my 
back, making the solemn inquiry, "But how about the 
soldier?" 

When times were critical, and great battles were be- 
ing fought, and news from the front scarce and unde- 
cided, it was considered safer at army headquarters in 
Washington not to tell the President too soon how things 
were going, at all events until results were certain. The 
President, grand character as he was, was considered 
just a little "leaky," and delighted to surprise his political 
friends and cronies with news, especially glorying in 
good news, but it was not always well to make public, 
too early, announcements, whether for good or evil. The 
news channel to the South was too straight and active. 
This Secretary Stanton and others knew, and so, from 

265 



266 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

prudential reasons, President Lincoln was often kept in 
ignorance of what was going on. At such times, he was 
very restless and anxious, and more than once at critical 
periods, I have seen him nervously hurrying from the 
White House to the office of the Secretary of War, and 
to army headquarters and back again, in search of in- 
formation for the time kept from him. On one or two 
occasions, he spent the best part of the day in these fruit- 
less trips; and, strange to say, not a few of the officers 
on duty at the different bureaus of the War Department 
were aware of the circumstances. 

As I have said, I passed the early part of the winter 
of '64 in the society of Washington, enjoying it greatly, 
and I may state, in anticipation, that in the latter part 
of March, Mrs. Grant arrived in the city. Her first 
experience of Washington society was, I think, at Mrs. 
Blair's. I believe I was the only person she knew in the 
room at the time, and I had the pleasure of taking her 
through the rooms, and of presenting very many Wash- 
ington people to her. She was received with great 
warmth, all looking to her with curiosity to see what 
manner of woman the wife of so great a general 
might be. 

On March nth, General Grant returned to Tennessee, 
and took leave of the armies of the west. On the 22nd 
or 23rd of March he returned to Washington, staying 
at Willard's Hotel. He was beset by visitors and poli- 
ticians. I called on him several times, but could not see 
him. On the 27th, he was again in Washington, I then 
saw him and had a long chat with him. I found him 
just the same man he always was, simple, unaffected, and 
his head unturned by the adulation he received. He 
treated me then as always, with simple kindness. 

About the 25th of March, i86z}.. General Sheridan ar- 



The President and Some Lesser Dignitaries 267 

rived at Washington. I had last seen him at Murfrees- 
boro, Tennessee. Grant had just placed him in com- 
mand of the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac. 
Sheridan, standing under the porch of Willard's Hotel, 
said to me, "Doctor, I'm going to take the cavalry away 
from the bob-tail brigadier-generals. They must do with- 
out their escorts. I intend to make the cavalry an arm 
of the service." 

In the early part of May, active preparations were be- 
gun by the Army of the Potomac, and Grant moved 
forward on the memorable Wilderness campaign, which 
ended in the capture of Richmond, the surrender of Lee, 
and the overthrow of the Rebellion. On the 3rd or 4th 
of May, the Army of the Potomac crossed the Rapidan, 
and the terrific series of battles commenced. For forty 
days men fell by the thousands, telegraphic communica- 
tion from Washington with the army ceased, and at 
first it was found impossible to communicate with the 
wounded or to transport them to Washington or to 
northern hospitals. 

On the 9th of May, 1864, I received orders to go to 
Fredericksburg, Virginia, and to report for surgical 
duty to the Medical Director of the Army of the Poto- 
mac. On the same day, I was directed by another order 
to take charge of the battle supplies placed on board the 
steamers State of Maine and Connecticut, and have them 
deHvered at Fredericksburg, Virginia, for the use of the 
wounded at that place. In giving me these orders, the 
Acting Surgeon-General Barnes told me verbally, "Doc- 
tor, our losses have been enormous, the wounded are by 
thousands, we don't know where they are and so far all 
attempts to send them supplies have failed. Take these 
supplies on board the steamers and get them forwarded 
at any hazard and at any loss. If you cannot deliver 



268 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

all, deliver one-half; if not that much, deliver what you 
can; the wounded are suffering for them, and do the 
best you can. The Secretary of War authorizes you 
through me to take possession in his name of any and 
all wagon trains to transport these supplies to Freder- 
icksburg. Give what orders you please in his name 
for this purpose." 

Accordingly, I went down with these steamers to Belle 
Plain on the Potomac Creek. The steamers carried an 
immense amount of medical supplies, — hundreds of thou- 
sands of dollars' worth. A corps of engineers and bridge 
builders were on board and these were directed to give 
me every possible support and assistance in landing the 
supplies, when I was to look out for myself, and to get 
proper protection and transportation from the army to 
which I was to deliver them. Arriving at Belle Plain, 
I found a shallow, muddy shore, no wharf, no landing. 
The engineers immediately built caissons or cribs of tim- 
bers, some of which they had brought with them and 
some of which they cut. These were sunken in the 
shallow water and timbers and trees stretched between 
so as to form a sort of roadway over which the 
supplies could be carried safely to land. The landing 
was overlooked by higher ground, and it was necessary 
to place guards for the protection of the precious sup- 
plies. I learned that the road from Belle Plain to Fred- 
ericksburg, ten or twelve miles distant, was infested with 
guerillas, and that no bridge existed at Fredericksburg. 
I had no force by which to send forward my supplies, 
and it was necessary for me to go forward myself to 
obtain wagons and guards. To avoid the guerillas on 
the road, I determined to walk along the edge of the 
woods at a safe distance from the road, and this I did 
in a pouring rain, which wet me so thoroughly that my 



The President and Some Lesser Dignitaries 269 

pocket case of instruments was dissolved by the wet and 
the instruments huddled loose in my pocket. The in- 
clement weather protected me from the guerillas, who 
were not very active just then, and arriving within a mile 
or two of Fredericksburg, I met a small body of cavalry, 
who were going to Belle Plain with a few wagons in 
search of quartermaster stores and ammunition. Acting 
under my verbal orders, I took possession of these wag- 
ons in spite of the most vehement protests and threats, 
and I walked back to Belle Plain, loaded up the wagon 
train with medical stores, and sent them forward on 
May loth under Assistant Surgeon Brinton Stone with 
instructions to get through as many of them as possible 
to Fredericksburg. He. was a daring, persevering man, 
and started without escort, but with the wagons. His 
train became separated in two sections, the front one 
of which, consisting of a very few wagons, reached 
Fredericksburg. The latter section, and he himself, 
were captured by Captain Mosby, a "guerilla," that is, 
an independent ranger,* with from 50 to 200 troopers, 
acting under his own orders, hanging on the rear of our 
armies, capturing scouts, peddlers, wanderers, wagon- 
trains, and all stragglers. He was a veritable "moss- 
trooper," annoying us a great deal, but never preventing 
any serious movement. 

The wagons and contents were carried off, and Stone 
himself was obliged to accompany Mosby for a whole 
night. Mosby took a fancy to him and in the morning 
said, "Doctor, if you will give me your word of honor 
not to say for twenty-four hours where you have been, 

*The command of John S. Mosby, usually denominated "Mosby's 
Guerillas," was as a matter of fact the 43rd Virginia Regiment of 
Cavalry and duly commissioned as such by the Confederate Govern- 
ment. — E. T. S. 



270 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

who has captured you, or anything whatever that you 
have heard or seen, I will let you go." Stone gave the 
promise, a man was detailed to accompany him back to 
the road, and he was set free, having been provided with 
a rather shabby horse in place of his own fine one. He 
reported to me, stating in general terms what had hap- 
pened, but sedulously keeping his word and not violating 
the parole. 

The train of wagons under Assistant Surgeon Brin- 
ton Stone was followed by a train from the Sanitary 
Commission. On the afternoon of the same day, May 
loth, I sent forward a second supply train under Sur- 
geon Homiston, to Fredericksburg. Stone and Homis- 
ton reported back to me at Belle Plain on the nth of 
May. 

By this time the wagons had begun to arrive from the 
army containing many slightly wounded men, among 
others my cousin Charles Coxe, who had been wounded 
in the arm at Todd's Tavern. I then forwarded the 
supply trains as fast as I could to Fredericksburg. 
Additional supplies were being received from Wash- 
ington and soon Sanitary and Christian Commissioners 
arrived in great numbers. I had no quarters for these 
gentlemen, and at night I was obliged to let them sleep 
on a canal boat filled with blankets. Lights were for- 
bidden. Stone, whom I instructed to make them com- 
fortable, reported to me early in the morning that he was 
afraid there must be a good many dead Christians in the 
hold of the boat, ''Because," he said, *T had to close the 
hatch to keep the stores from being damaged." Fortu- 
nately, they had plenty of air, and slept comfortably in 
the blankets. 

A favorite trick of the Sanitary Commission agents 
was to ride forward with a wagon or two under the 



i The President and Some Lesser Dignitaries 271 

I protection of a military train until the lines of safety 
I were reached; then as their own wagons were usually 
I better horsed than those of the Medical Department, 
they would whip out from the line, pass the front, open 
their supplies (usually of lemons and canned fruit) and 
the next day's New York Herald or some such paper 
would announce that "as usual the Sanitary Commission 
was first on the ground to assist our wounded boys." 

In a train sent forward under Stone's command, an 
obnoxious Sanitarian with a four-horse light wagon of 
lemons and crackers, asked protection and escort, to 
which I acceded. As they started. Stone whispered to 
me, "I don't think that Sanitarian will be first in Fred- 
ericksburg." He afterwards told me, with a chuckle, 
that unfortunately the linch-pin came out of the sanitary 
wheel right in the midst of a deep creek fording, and 
that the last he saw of the Sanitary Commissioners was 
that they were soused in the swollen stream. He said 
nobody was to blame; but the teamsters, I heard, were 
very merry over the mishap. 

Belle Plain was now established as the depot for the 
army, and having arranged matters at this place, I went 
forward with a supply train on May 13, 1864, to Fred- 
ericksburg, which I found filled with wounded, a train 
of six or seven hundred wagonfuls having arrived from 
the front. Having reported by letter to the Medical 
Director of the Army of the Potomac, I wrote by the 
same messenger to Captain Mason of the Fifth Cavalry, 
asking him to send me one or two orderlies, a pack 
horse, and a horse for myself. The pack horse, I told 
him I would load with a couple of kegs of Army Mu- 
seum whiskey (cherry brandy), which I had taken the 
precaution to bring with me. In due time, horses and 
men arrived, and with Kelly, the trooper, I started for 



272 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

General Grant's headquarters, wherever they might be. 
The kegs were neatly slung on the backs of the pack 
horses, and Kelly assured me that they and I were 
anxiously awaited at headquarters. 

We passed over the old battlefield, over Marye's 
Heights, through the old Confederate defences and out 
through the woods and wilderness region, in search of 
headquarters. It was all very lonely, nobody could be 
seen, and there hardly seemed to be a bird in the woods. 
At last, and just as we were in doubt which way we 
were to go, whom should I meet but my friend and 
distant relative. Colonel Joe Brinton of the 8th Penn- 
sylvania Cavalry. He gave me the general bearings, 
and I and my trooper rode on, the road becoming more 
and more silent as we advanced. Finally, after two 
or three hours' riding, we came to a fine old deserted 
mansion with broken greenhouses attached. There was 
a little clearing in the woods here, and somehow or 
other, I felt that we were off our track, wandering in 
space as it were. The more I looked, the more and 
more I was convinced that we were entirely wrong, so 
we retraced our steps and finally after much devious 
wandering, we struck the trodden road, and in the after- 
noon, reached General Grant's headquarters, where I 
was kindly welcomed. 

After a while, General Grant asked me to take a 
seat by him some twenty yards in front of his tent, as 
he said he wanted to talk to me. I remember that he 
was smoking a big pipe. He spoke to me of old times. 
Just then Rawlins reported to him that one or two 
large regiments of heavy artillery were approaching. 
They were the soldiers who had garrisoned the defences 
of Washington, and had been converted and armed as 
infantry and sent to the front. He pointed to them 



The President and Some Lesser Dignitaries 273 

approaching on the road to the left. The General re- 
marked, "Order them in" (the 6th New York Artillery 
and I think, a Massachusetts regiment) ; they imme- 
diately advanced under fire, and took an active part in 
the contest, which I have omitted to state was taking 
place to the left of the General's headquarters. They 
advanced in a line which seemed to me to melt as it 
went on, so fierce was the fire. As darkness fell, the 
firing ceased and after a while Rawlins, the Chief of 
Staff, approached General Grant and advised him that 
the details of the day's fight were coming in over the 
telegraph, "How does it stand," said the General; the 
answer was, "We have lost about" so many, "the enemy 
have lost" so many, mentioning a greater number. 
"Ah!" said the General, "then we are still gaining on 
them, still a little ahead." 

The Staff, one or two of whom I knew, seemed some- 
what surprised to see a mere Doctor and Major talk- 
ing familiarly with the General. After a while. General 
Meade came up into headquarters to know how things 
were going, and General Grant explained to him very 
quietly and simply. General Meade's manner was also 
very quiet and military, but it seemed to me that he 
recognized the great qualities of this simple unassuming 
man to whom he was talking. 

General Grant asked me how I reached headquarters 
and by what road I had come, expressing surprise that 
I had taken so long to make the trip from Fredericks- 
burg there. When I told him of the big house, and 
the green house and trailing vines, he said to me, "Why, 
Doctor, you have been behind the enemy's cavalry; I 
wonder you ever got here." 

I stayed that night at headquarters. When I went 
to bed there was a vast force between the spot where 



274 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

I was and the enemy's lines. In the morning at day- 
break, when I woke, there was not a soldier to be seen. 
I asked Rawlins how this was. He answered, "We have 
raoved a whole wing of the army during the night." I 
said, "What force is there to protect these headquarters. 
He replied, "Not one soul. A company of the enemy's 
cavalry could capture us all, but we are going away 
now." 

I may state that the Medical Director of the Army of 
the Potomac, Surgeon McParlin, had assigned me by 
letter on the 13th of May, to duty as Medical Purveyor 
of the Army. I explained to the General that it was not 
the intention of the Surgeon-General to put me on 
permanent duty; that I had my work at Washington to 
finish. He laughed and said, "We must keep you here, 
so that we can get plenty of castor oil." However, he 
directed my order changed, so that on the morning of the 
15th, I was able to return to Fredericksburg, finish up 
the business of the supplies, see what surgery I could, 
and having thus fulfilled my order of delivering the 
battlefield supplies, betook myself to Washington in 
accordance with my instructions from the Acting-Sur- 
geon-General. On the 22nd of May, I was back at my 
old duties in the office. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

JAMES RIVER AND CITY POINT 

On the 5th of June, 1864, I received orders from the 
Acting-Surgeon-General to go to White House, Vir- 
ginia, and report by letter to the Medical Director of 
the Army of the Potomac for surgical duty with the 
wounded at that place. General Grant was at this time 
operating with two armies. One, the Army of the 
Potomac, with which he had crossed the Rapidan, and 
moved southward through the wilderness, lay north- 
east of Richmond, with headquarters at Cold Harbor. 
It was the General's evident intention to swing this 
army around and to the south of Richmond, cross the 
James River somewhere in the neighborhood of Harri- 
son's Landing, and join and co-operate with the army 
of the James River, which, under Gen. B. F. Butler, 
had been moved to the south bank, and occupied Ber- 
muda Hundred. With the co-operation of these two 
forces, General Grant then proposed to act against 
Petersburg and destroy the railroad lines which formed 
the communication between Richmond and the Army 
of Northern Virginia and the South. This isolated 
Richmond, and General Lee's Army must eventually 
surrender. Thus, in the end it proved, and so fell the 
Southern cause. 

I immediately left Washington by boat for White 
House, ascending the Pamunkey River and arriving 
there, reported according to my orders, and was soon 

27s 



276 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

hard at work at real professional duties. There were 
here many wounded, and there was plenty for every- 
one to do. 

At White House I remained several days; in the 
meantime the Army was moving toward the James, 
and preparations were being made shortly to abandon 
White House as a base, and the stores, supplies and 
wounded were generally removed, and by June 22nd, 
White House was abandoned as a depot. On the 14th 
of June, I left White House, sailed down the Pamunkey, 
and up the James. On the i6th, I reached Fort Pow- 
hatan, eight miles below Harrison's Landing, on the 
south bank of the James. Here a pontoon bridge had 
been laid, and columns of our army had crossed and 
were crossing. Several pontoons had been put down 
between this point and City Point, which was our chief 
base. The laying of these boat bridges was under the 
supervision of General Benham, of the Engineers. I 
had known him in Washington, for we had for some 
time taken our meals at the same table. At the time 
I approached the pontoon bridge, which was opened 
for the space of two or three boats to let steamers pass, 
Benham was standing at the end (the mid-stream end), 
of his bridge. At this time, I was in medical charge of 
a steamer with a long tow of canal boats having medical 
stores. We had to approach the cut in the bridge 
obliquely, and somehow or other, hampered by our long 
train of heavy boats, we lost our headway, and came 
athwart the pontoon, tearing the boats from the anchor- 
age, and doing not a little harm in spite of our best 
efforts to avoid injury. Benham, who was a high- 
tempered man, looked upon this damage as an inter- 
ference with his work. He was greatly incensed (and 
I don't wonder), and seeing me on the deck of the 



James River and City Point 277 

steamer, in uniform, and apparently in charge, he be- 
came fiercely enraged and excited. "Shoot him, shoot 
him, shoot the scoundrel," he shouted, pointing to me. 
I called to him by name, but he was so angry it was 
no use, so I prudently disappeared. Thus I left him 
in his rage, and passed up to my destination, City 
Point. 

At this place, I remained on board one of the steamers, 
and here I may say that I was quite surprised to find 
several of the little stern-wheel steamers taken from 
our Shuylkill River where they had plied between Fair- 
mount and Manayunk. They, with so many steam ves- 
sels, had been pressed into service, and being of light 
draught and easily managed, proved of great service. 
They had a very home-like appearance to me, and when 
I was temporarily in charge of them, I almost thought 
I was in my own house. They were used for medical 
storage and supplies. 

General Grant's headquarters were now being estab- 
lished at City Point, and he lived in the little log cabin 
which many of my readers have so often seen in Fair- 
mount Park near the Lemon Hill Mansion, and before 
one comes to the Girard Avenue Bridge.* I remember 
riding to the General's headquarters, but he was away, 
and I did not see him. About the 19th, I rode out 
along our lines on the left towards Petersburg, and on 
my way out, I passed within sight of a rebel sharp- 
shooter, stationed up a tree, a long way off, a mile it 
seemed to me. He was good enough to favor me with 
a shot, and the ball struck the ground near me. On this 

♦This historic cabin Grant gave to George H. Stuart, who had it 
carefully taken apart, shipped by schooner and erected in Fairmount 
Park. It remained the property of G. H. Stuart's estate until for- 
mally presented to the city in 1903. — E. T. S. 



278 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

ride, at a hospital, I saw a poor fellow, who while 
squatting on a rail, over a little stream, washing out 
his shirt, had been shot through both thigh bones by a 
Whitworth bullet or bolt (hexagonal), fired by a sharp- 
shooter from a tree said to be nearly a measured mile 
and a quarter distant. The poor fellow died and the 
bolt is in my collection of projectiles. 

There was a constant skirmishing fire kept up along 
our front; everywhere, one could see the white puffs of 
smoke. We were constantly pushing out for new posi- 
tions, which, of course, our enemy resisted. This ride 
conveyed to me an idea of continuous fighting on a 
small scale. Here, too, I saw a good many negro troops, 
the first time I had ever seen them in the field. They 
looked well, but did not in these operations prove alto- 
gether satisfactory, but I shall say more of them when 
I come to speak of the Battle of Nashville, in December, 
1864. 

In the latter part of the month of June, about the 
28th, I think, a cavalry raid was undertaken by the 
Southern forces. A large body of horse and light 
artillery advanced into northern Maryland, occupying 
Hagerstown, threatening Frederick, scouring the coun- 
try, collecting forage and stores, and levying contribu- 
tions of money. A general panic ensued, and the utmost 
consternation prevailed. The object of this raid, un- 
doubtedly, was to threaten Washington (uncovered by 
General Hunter's retirement to western Virginia), and 
thus to force General Grant to weaken his forces in 
front of Richmond and Petersburg, by sending troops 
to the relief of Washington. But General Grant was 
quite equal to the occasion; he was by no means 
"stampeded," to use a western term; and as we shall 
see, while sending a few troops to the defence of the 



James River and City Point 279 

national capital, he never for a moment relaxed his 
death grip on Lee's army and Richmond. 

After having ravaged Maryland pretty well, about 
the 8th of July, the Southern raiding force, some thou- 
sand strong, appeared in the neighborhood of Mono- 
cacy, some miles from Baltimore. Here General Lewis 
Wallace (the author since of Ben Hnr, and other pro- 
ductions of merit), advanced against him with General 
Ricketts in command of one division of the 6th Corps. 
These forces, on July 9th, were defeated by the enemy, 
who then moved against Washington, and there made 
their appearance, I think on July nth. 

I can give you but a faint idea of the panic which 
their advent created. Washington at that time had no 
garrison of trained or experienced troops, either regular 
or volunteer. We all whistled to keep our courage up, 
and whistled, too, very loud. The President, had, in- 
deed, called on several Governors of northern states for 
troops. These were being raised, but so far had not 
yet arrived. The garrison of the belt of forts surround- 
ing Washington had been stripped of troops to reinforce 
the Army of the Potomac during the Wilderness cam- 
paign. These men were the heavy artillery from Massa- 
chusetts and New York chiefly, whom I had seen en- 
gaged in the fight near Anderson's house. They fought 
as infantry. 

So at the Capitol, we kept our pens driving merrily, 
and the Secretary of War directed that all the orderlies, 
messengers, military riffraff, the invalids, veteran re- 
serve, and indeed every man in Government employ, 
who could put on a uniform, or carry a musket, should 
turn out in defence of the capital of his country, and 
a sorry lot they were. They laid down their pens, and 
off they went to "report" for military duty. My clerks 



280 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

went too, from my office, but they were a mild-man- 
nered set, and I assume they would never have hurt 
anybody, not even in self-defence. 

In the offices, everybody tried to appear very busy, 
no one would admit ideas of danger, but yet everyone 
was at heart afraid. I learned from a very trustworthy 
source, that even the Secretary of War, the redoubtable 
Mr. Edwin M. Stanton, thought so gravely of the situa- 
tion, as to send his silver and valuables aboard a gun- 
boat. This information reached me through a clerk. 
In Washington, the Brotherhood of Clerks knew every- 
thing, the most secret acts, and even thoughts, of men, 
very high in position, men who never forgot themselves, 
or committed an indiscretion with their equals or su- 
periors in station, but who with their confidential clerks, 
were sometimes a little leaky. My head clerk was most 
popular among his fellows, gentle-mannered, silent, and 
insinuating in manners, the very man to invite con- 
fidence, as it were. He always knew the hidden coun- 
sels of the White House, and the Secretary's office. 
He was proud of this information, especially when he 
had obtained it by ingenuity, and he always tried to 
post me a day in advance. He was always right. His 
information was reliable and not sensational, and I 
thus learned many a bit of gossip, military and political, 
and many a bit of early news. He told me the gunboat 
story, which he said was very private, and I daresay 
he was very near the truth. 

I doubt if many persons in the North ever knew, or 
knowing, realized, the true state of insecurity in Wash- 
ington. I really believe that five hundred, yes, one 
hundred, of Early's horses could have ridden into and 
through Washington, and captured whom they chose, 
the President or his Cabinet, or even myself. 



James River and City Point 281 

On the afternoon on which the enemy appeared be- 
\ fore Washington, I took a long ride alone, from near 
'Rock Creek, in the neighborhood of Georgetown, around 
ibeyond the Seventh Street Road, passing beneath quite 
la chain of earthworks and forts. We had plenty of 
works, and lots of rifle trenches, or their equivalents, 
but they were manned by no real troops, only mes- 
sengers, convalescent patients from the hospitals, all 
looking and feeling very uncomfortable, and distressed 
at the idea of passing the night in the open air, and 
that, too, within sight of their own boarding houses, 
within touch almost of their very beds. In the earth- 
forts, which were well located and strongly built, and 
provided with heavy guns, a few scattered artillerymen 
were stationed, mostly men from light batteries, and 
occasionally a gun would be fired at the enemy, who 
lay a mile or two away beyond our works. A bronze 
stripping from one of these big shells, fired from a 
siege gun, just above my head, fell on the ground close 
by me, I picked it up, a crooked, ragged piece of 
metal. 

The forts, as I have said, were maintained with large 
guns, siege guns, as they were called, and every pre- 
caution was taken to insure their accurate fire, the dis- 
tance of all points within range being accurately cal- 
culated; these distances, and the name of the locality 
were printed on the stage of each gun. Let us take a 
place called Smith's House, distant one and a half 
measured miles from the fort. Some such inscription 
as this would be attached to the gun carriage : "Smith's 
house, i-}4 miles: Elevation of gun 3 degrees: Charge 
for the gun i lb. powder; Time fuse for shell 4 seconds." 

Thus an artillery man having this information, and 
knowing his business, could so train his gun, mechanic- 



282 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

ally as it were, as to make very certain firing. A group 
of rebel and southern cavalry was standing in the middle 
of a road, about a mile from a fort, and exactly in front 
of a registered locality, Smith's house, I think it was. 
A young light artillery man from the West, was on 
duty in the fort ; he trained a gun by the legends printed 
on the traverse, and the shell burst exactly in front of 
the house, and apparently in the road, scattering the 
group. I could not tell whether anyone was hurt, but 
the shot seemed marvellously well directed. 

For this first day, or a part of it, the town was un- 
protected, but later, the 19th Corps from Louisiana, 
and the 6th (veteran) Corps from the Army of the 
Potomac arrived. These immediately went into the 
trenches, and soon made their presence manifest to the 
enemy by the lively cracks of their rifles. On the fol- 
lowing day, early in the morning, some skirmishing 
took place, and the enemy finally seeing that Washing- 
ton had been succored, and that any attempt to capture 
it coutd not succeed, slowly withdrew, followed by the 
6th Corps, under General Wright. On the morning 
before they withdrew, I rode out to the scene of hos- 
tilities in company with Dr. Wm. Thomson and Dr. 
Wm. Norris, of Philadelphia. They were at that time 
both assistant surgeons in the regular army. Dr. Thom- 
son had charge of the Douglas Hospital in Washington, 
and Dr. Norris was on duty under him. We rode out 
by Seventh Street Road, I think. The enemy were at 
that time in full force on the opposite hills, and their 
firing was brisk. Our 6th Corps troops in the trenches 
replied rapidly. Our presence, three mounted officers, 
at once attracted the enemy's attention, and we became 
the object of their sharpshooter's fire. They were scat- 
tered in the open fields, in front of the wooded ridges 



James River and City Point 283 

occupied By their main body. Some of their sharp- 
shooters had cleverly concealed and protected them- 
selves by fence rails, piled at an angle, and they fired 
with most provoking deliberation. One or two shots 
struck the ground close by our horses' feet. For my 
part, I (who had seen a good deal of fighting, while 
my two companions had not seen any) felt quite keenly 
the danger of the situation. It is not at all pleasant to 
be a target for an enterprising and skilful marksman, 
who, in comparative safety, fires at his leisure. I con- 
fess I wanted to get away, especially as I had little 
confidence in my horse, the wicked one, who seemed to 
have a devilish comprehension of the situation, and 
evidently wanted to bolt toward the enemy. I was de- 
lighted afterwards at the conduct of a 6th Corps Ser- 
geant, who seeing the shot and the dust from the bullets, 
fired by one particular "reb," came towards us, and 
saluting, said, "Gentlemen, foolish exposure is not 
bravery, you had better ride back and get under cover." 
How I have respected that man ! I have never forgotten 
him, and I can see his face this minute. My comrades 
saw the good sense of his remarks, and we returned be- 
yond the range of the one persevering Johnny Reb, 
hidden behind his rails. So we went home and dined. 

Thomson, who rode out the next morning after the 
enemy had retired, told me that he had found the poor 
"reb," who had singled us out for his attentions, lying 
still, behind his rails, with a bullet hole through his 
forehead. He had been spied out, and shot, by a 6th 
Corps man, who could not resist the chance. Poor fel- 
low, I absolutely felt sorry for him, although he did 
try to kill us. He seemed so cool and saucy, ensconced 
in his hiding-place, so far in advance of his friends. 

So this is what I saw of Early's raid on Washington. 



284 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

By the evening of the 12th of July, the enemy were all 
away, and Washington was as safe as ever. 

In a letter to my Mother from Washington, dated 
July 14, 1864, I wrote: "So the siege is raised, and 
Johnny Reb is off. We had quite a sharp fight. Fancy 
dining, smoking a cigar, riding out leisurely, looking at 
the whole performance, within a few hundred yards, 
and when the fighting was over, going back to a cup of 
coffee. I saw all the fighting here; it was quite brisk 
and very exciting, bullets whizzing all around. We 
lost about 350 men. The New York Herald has just 
arrived; we have had none for four days. I am well 
as usual. Our blessed forts stood us in good stead. 
I sat on my horse just in front of one of them, and 
heard the big shells screaming twent)'^ feet above my 
head. The whole affair was very curious. There was 
not a great deal of excitement, everybody was prepared, 
and a hard fight was expected. We had a good many 
men. The current here is against Grant, but you know 
I prophesied a panic against him long ago; but he will 
not be shaken from his course, I am sure." 

The months of July and August, 1864, I spent in 
Washington, with the exception of one or two trips to 
New York and Philadelphia, on business connected with 
the art department of the Museum. In the latter part 
of the summer, a photographic bureau was added to 
the Museum, and I had to see to engaging the proper 
artists and outfit. I succeeded after much trouble in 
procuring an excellent artist, named Bell, and much of 
his work figures in the volumes of the Medical and 
Surgical History of the War. 

And here, perhaps, it would be well to say a little 
about the means to which resort was had to obtain the 
illustrations for that great work. When I first went 



James River and City Point 285 

on duty at the Surgeon-General's office, and had com- 
mitted to me the preparation of the Surgical History 
of the War, I set about finding for myself an artist. 
Our views at that time were not very extended, and the 
means at the disposal of the Surgeon-General for that 
purpose were rather limited. The supply of artists in 
Washington available for my purposes was not very 
great. The only person I could at first lay my hands 
on was a German artist, who had been on topographical 
duty in the War Department (his name was Pohlers), 
excellent in his line, but not capable of drawing and 
coloring from the human figure. The maps, however, 
which he reduced and reproduced from the larger maps 
of the topographical engineers were very accurate and 
beautiful. The positions of the field hospitals and points 
of medical interest were furnished by the medical officers 
on duty at the different actions and localities. Most of 
these field maps were drawn under my supervision. You 
will see them in the appendix to the Medical Volume, 
Part I. of the Medical and Surgical History of the 
Rebellion. They have the name, "A. Pohlers del" at 
the bottom. Pohlers remained on duty with me while 
I was in Washington, employed on map work. 

E. Stauch was a German water-colorist. His work 
was very fine, and his coloring exquisite. He came to 
me in the early part of 1863, or the end of 1862. He 
accompanied me in several visits to the army in the 
field, and frequently visited the hospitals with me, es- 
pecially to make pictures and sketches of the hospital 
gangrene cases, occurring in our trc^ns sent north and 
exchanged from the Southern prisons. His colored pic- 
tures, which were done in oil, are faithfully delineated 
in Surgical volumes, Parts II and HI, of the Medical 
and Surgical History of the War. With one or two 



286 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

exceptions, all of the colored pictures in the work are 
from the pencil and brush of Stauch. He was a most 
excellent artist, and when in a good humor, or well 
satisfied, could, and would, work well, and with tolerable 
rapidity. Like so many artists, however, he was ca- 
pricious and irritable, and when these fits were on him, 
he could not be depended on. When I took him with 
me to the army, I always took great care of his bed 
and food, far more than I did of my own. I worked 
with him thus. I first selected the patients to be pic- 
tured on the field or in the hospital. Then the point of 
injury, say the wounds of entrance, were carefully 
painted by Stauch in oil. Next a pencil outline sketch 
was taken of the general locality. This work he did 
with great rapidity, and then when he reached Washing- 
ton again, the beautiful pictures you will see in the 
Surgical History were elaborated. 

I was very desirous of obtaining a full and perfect 
series of wounds of entrance and exit, of round bullets, 
and conical projectiles, freshly taken. To get these, it 
was necessary to have an artist well to the front, while 
fighting was going on. This seemed at first almost im- 
possible, but I finally arranged it thus. When the troops 
under General Grant, occupied the line stretching from 
City Point to Petersburg, heavy fighting was of every- 
day occurrence. Bomb-proofs, too, had been erected, 
well forward, to which the wounded were carried for 
the first surgical attentions. In my office, a young medical 
officer, and acting-assistant-surgeon, named Porter (a 
relative of Admiral Porter), was on duty. He was a 
singularly brave young man, cool in danger, and always 
having his head about him. He suggested to me to 
let him go to the front with Stauch, the artist, saying 
that when some sharp fighting should take place, he would 



James River and City Point 287 

"run" the artist into the bombproof, and then as the 
wounded should come in, he (Porter) would make 
choice of suitable cases, and the sketches and paintings 
could be immediately made, with a certain knowledge 
of the time which elapsed since the reception of the 
wound. This plan was put into force — Porter, the 
artist, and an orderly went down to City Point, and 
succeeded, with some trouble, and the loss of a horse, 
and I think, too, at the cost of a gunshot wound to 
the guide, or worse, in reaching the protected casemate 
or proof to which the wounded were being carried. 
Here forty-seven oil sketches were taken, which are 
reproduced at pages 712 and 714 of the Part III, Sur- 
gical Volume of the Medical and Surgical History of 
the War. Magnificent sketches they are, and truthful. 
Unfortunately, one thing is wanting. Each pair of 
wounds of entrance and exit, or singly, if but one, should 
be represented in a picture, showing the precise locality 
and the contour of the part injured. Such a series of 
sketches in lead pencil, adapted for future elaborations, 
was in fact made by the artist at that time. On emerg- 
ing from the bombproof and his perilous duty, the artist 
came to Washington, and leaving there the precious 
block of oils in the office, and stating that he had the 
supplementary sketches in his possession, received per- 
mission to visit his home in Philadelphia on promise to 
return in a day or two. Not returning, I was sent to 
look him up, if possible, when I learned through the 
death records of the Board of Health that he had died 
of an illness of a day or two's duration, the exact 
nature of which was not known, and was probably of 
some nervous type, the result of exposure or of mental 
disturbance. The key of this series of pictures was not 
found during my stay at Washington, and I imagine 



288 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

that the description in small type on page 712 has been 
supplied from notes rather than from pictorial repre- 
sentations. I may, however, be wrong in this idea. At 
all events, the series of wounds of entrance and exit, are 
not presented in the manner I had designed when my 
attempt to arrange for their production was made. 

In 1864, my friend, Gideon Scull, was ordered from 
Washington by the Secretary of War. Captain Scull 
was much attached to Mr. Pierce Butler, of Philadelphia, 
who on account of his supposed Southern feeling or 
sympathy, was not kindly regarded by the Secretary of 
War, and indeed, I believe he at one time was arrested 
by Mr. Stanton's order. The Secretary, having learned 
of Mr. Scull's presence in Washington (for he was a 
most capable officer, and was on duty in the office of the 
Commissary General of Subsistence) personally ordered 
his detail to the West at St. Louis, with, if my memory 
is correct, a special direction that, once there, he should 
be assigned to an army in the field, for poor Scull had 
rheumatism, and the Secretary knew it. Scull was what 
was then called a "white elephant," and when I said 
good-bye, I remember very well that I told him, "I 
soon, too, will be a white elephant, and will follow you." 
In the end prophecy proved true. 

About this time, there was a good deal of grumbling 
in Washington about General Grant. He had not many 
friends amongst the Army of Potomac men. They were 
all AlcClellan men, and insisted that Grant was only 
treading the same path followed by McClellan, and that 
his bloody victories were fruitless. They did not like 
him, and had no confidence in him. The Northern peo- 
ple, as a mass, believed in him; the Eastern, especially 
the troops of the Army of the Potomac, did not. I, how- 
ever, could not forget his exploits in the West, and the 



James River and City Point 289 

untiring bulldog perseverance he there exhibited. In a 
letter to my Mother of September 8, 1864, which I 
quote, I wrote: "You may be sure that Grant will 
succeed ; he cannot fail ; my confidence in him is the same 
as ever." 



CHAPTER XXIV 



SHERIDAN S CAMPAIGN AND FIELD WORK 



About the 20th of September, 1864, I was sent to 1 
the Valley of Virginia. This was then the condition of ■ 
affairs: In the latter days of July and early August,! 
a cavalry raid had been made by the enemy across the 
Potomac and Maryland into Pennsylvania. The town 
of Chambersburg was burned, and the enemy withdrew 
into Virginia. At this time, General Sheridan, by - 
Grant's order, was placed in command of a considerable . 
force on the upper Potomac, from Harper's Ferry west- 
ward and southward. He was opposed by the southern i 
. . / general Early, and a good deal of manoeuvring took 
^y 1 1 I Co^"**^ place. On the iQth of September, 1864, occurred Sheri- 
dan's famous ride from Winchester and the attack and j_ 
defeat of the enemy at Cedar Creek, and on the 23rd - 
of the same month at Fisher's Hill, not far from the 
town of Woodstock. The enemy's wounded fell into 
Sheridan's hands, and were scattered over a large area 
of country. He also captured a large number of prison- 
ers, many of whom were sent back to Winchester. The \ 
devastation of the Shenandoah Valley and the Valley of 
Virginia then followed, the country being rendered use- 
less to the enemy as a base of military operations or 
for material supplies. In fact it was left in such a 
state, that to use the words of Sheridan, "A carrion 
crow in his flight across must either carry his rations 
or starve." War's stern necessity! 

290 



Sheridan s Campaign and Field Work 291 

■ The following was my order: 

I "Surgeon General's Office, Washington City, D. C. 

! Sept. 20th, 1864. 

jSir: 

I am instructed by the Surgeon General to direct you 
[to proceed without delay, to Winchester, Va., and take 
charge of the wounded at that place temporarily, report- 
ing your arrival there by letter to the Medical Director 
at the Headquarters of Major General Sheridan. Sur- 
geons McKay, Hayden, U. S. Vols. ; Asst. Surgeon 
Carter, U. S. A. ; Stone, U. S. Vols., and Acting Asst. 
Surgeon Porter will be ordered to report to you for duty. 

Ten of the most competent Acting Asst. Surgeons on 
duty in Baltimore, and five from Philadelphia, are also 
ordered to proceed at once to Winchester, and to re- 
port to the chief Medical Officer. 

Very respy. yr. obt. servt. 

By order of the Surg. Genl. 

(sd) C. H. CRANE, 

Surg. U. S. A. 
Surg. J. H. Brinton, U. S. V. 
Present." 

At the time at which I received the foregoing order, 
the state of the road to Harper's Ferry was very un- 
certain. However, as the supply of medical officers at 
Winchester was insufficient, and as the number of 
wounded was unknown, although supposed to be large, 
the Secretary of War ordered that my special train 
should have the right of way, and that we should make 
the best time possible. We left Washington on the 
evening of Tuesday, the 24th of September, 1864. At 
the depot. Surgeons Hayden, McKay and Porter, and 
two or three hospital stewards, reported to me for duty. 



292 Personal 3Iemoirs of John H. Brinton 

Accordingly we started, and telegraphing from the Re- 
lay House to have all opposing trains stopped and the 
only track to be cleared, we went forward at high speed. 
Some of the Baltimore doctors joined us at the Relay, 
and we reached Harper's Ferry in a short time, about 
noon. Here, I saw the ruin of some sixty or seventy 
locomotives. They had been purposely run off the end 
of the bridge, and were then burned in one ghastly heap 
of ruins. I have never before or since seen such a 
horrible scene of wanton destruction. The entire ap- 
pearance of the town was poverty-stricken and war- 
worn, on one day in the occupancy of one, and on the 
next, of the other, contending armies. All the better 
class of people had fled, and only a few of the poorest 
whites and a few of the negroes were left. The arsenal, 
barracks, and public buildings had long since been burned, 
and all air of prosperity had passed away. I saw the 
commanding officers of our troops there and learning 
that a wagon-train with escort of cavalry was about 
to start, joined it with my doctors. 

We pushed along the well-travelled road, and passed 
Charlestown. I had a long wagon-train of medical sup- 
plies, and in a kind of way was commander of the 
party. We left Harper's Ferry at lo A.M., September 
2ist, and reached Winchester at 9.30 P.M. Having a 
strong guard, sufficient to protect us from the guerillas 
who infested all roads, we felt no apprehensions. Our 
feelings of safety were shared by a number of settlers 
and camp followers, who would join our train and avail 
themselves of our protection. One or two of these peo- 
ple were peddlers. I recollect one man particularly, a 
Jewish peddler, with a black and red wagon. He was 
a cunning fellow in his way, and with his heavily laden 
one-horse wagon, would place himself in our front and 



Sheridan's Campaign and Field Work 293 

would dawdle along, at the pace suitable to his own 
poor overloaded, overworked beast. Finally, on a hill- 
side, close to a wood, his wagon became stalled in a 
cut in the road, and the whole train not being able to 
pass was brought to a standstill. This would not do, so 
I ordered the man to shove his cart on a bank on one 
side of the road, and we hurried on, despite his prayers 
and imprecations, at being left behind. We told him 
to fall in at the rear which he promised to do, but 
somehow he must have lagged behind, for the next day 
after I reached Winchester, the Captain of the first train 
following our wake, said to me, "Doctor, we found a 
peddler's wagon thrown off the bank; the peddler had 
his throat cut, and lay dead beneath it; the contents of 
the wagon had been carried off, and all we found in 
it was this little leather-covered portfolio," and he gave 
it to me, one of the cheap little portfolios soldiers liked 
to buy in those days, and which is now somewhere about 
the house as I write. 

On arriving at Winchester, I assumed charge of the 
wounded who were coming in from the neighborhood 
of Woodstock, where Sheridan had defeated the enemy 
in one or two engagements, notably at Fisher's Hill. 
For a day or two, I did the best I could for them in 
the hotel and church hospitals where I found them, and 
which had been hastily extemporized. It was indeed 
a difficult matter to care for them. On the 25th of 
September, the wounded in Winchester numbered 4,201, 
and commissary and medical supplies had to be brought 
up from Harper's Ferry and Martinsburg. The rail- 
road to these places had been destroyed, and the roads 
were infested with guerillas, and only practicable with 
strong escorts. So troublesome were these gentry, that 
it was not safe to ride a mile beyond our lines without 



294 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

a guard, and we were practically cut off from obtaining 
the commonest supplies from the adjacent country. 
However, I did the best I could for the wounded I found 
in the hospital, making use of everything I had, and 
making requisitions, and bringing up fresh mounts by 
wagon. 

In a few hours, sanitarians and worse, sanitary and 
"Christian women" began to arrive. Good women- 
nurses were a godsend; those who would really nurse 
and work, do what they were told, make no pets, and 
give no trouble. On the other hand, the fussy female, 
intent on notoriety and glorying in her good works, 
fond of washing the faces of "our boys" and of writ- 
ing letters home, glorifying herself; — she was not god- 
sent; in fact we all regarded her as having a very 
different origin. One of such creatures I was blest with 
at Winchester. She was a friend of Mrs. Stanton, the 
wife of the Secretary of War, and took care to let every- 
one know of the fact, and boasted a good deal of her 
influence with the Secretary and of the information 
she gave him. Knowing his harshness, and ruthless- 
ness, and impetuous injustice, I felt very much afraid of 
this woman for a day or two. She used to wear an 
india-rubber waterproof, and created discontent and 
disorder wherever she went. The men all saw and 
recognized her weakness. I remember that she made a 
special pet of one wretched malingerer. She followed 
me for hours, saying that "the poor boy would relish 
an omelet." I told her, "that I had no eggs, but that 
I thought she could get them at a farm-house, just 
outside the lines; if she liked I would send her there." 
I was much in hopes that some of Mosby's men would 
catch her. She was too sharp, and wouldn't go, but 
she left me, kindly muttering her intentions to "let her 



Sheridan's Campaign and Field Work 295 

friend the Secretary of War know how badly the 
wounded boys were treated." I took an opportunity, 
too, of sending off that malingerer, without ever giv- 
ing her an opportunity of saying bood-bye. His com- 
rades understood the matter, and regarded my little joke 
with favor. 

In taking care of all these men, being without the 
usual medical and sanitary (I don't mean Sanitary 
Commission) stores, I was obliged by pure necessity 
to lay violent hands on everything I could find in the 
town of Winchester, the property of the citizens, and 
here it is that I approach that all-important subject, Mrs. 
Washington's brass kettle. You must know that the 
great thing in feeding sick people is to possess the proper 
means of cooking, and the chief means of something to 
cook with, namely, pots, pans and kettles. Now, I 
found the newly improvised hospital at Winchester town, 
destitute of all culinary apparatus. I appealed to the 
Mayor of the place, in fact, made a requisition on him 
for kettles. Strange to say, it was reported to me that 
there were no kettles. They had all suddenly and mys- 
teriously disappeared. Luckily, for me, as I was walk- 
ing through a back alley, I spied an iron pot, which 
had been stuck on a paling fence to dry, just outside 
the kitchen door. I instantly stepped in, and proceeded 
to confiscate it on the spot. "What, take my only 
kettle," said the sour-faced, poverty-stricken woman. 
"Why don't you take the rich people's things, and let 
the poor alone?" "Why," said I, "there are no rich 
people, and there are no kettles in town." "None," 
said she, "why, there are plenty. Take Mrs. Washing- 
ton's kettle, that's brass, and the best and biggest one 
in town. I'll show you where they keep it." I saw at 
once an opening. "Now," said I, "I'll tell you wh^t 



296 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

I'll do. If you tell me where all the good kettles and 
good cooking things are, I'll let yours alone." She 
jumped at the chance, and soon I knew exactly who 
owned the big preserving jars, and where they were. 
Under my friend's vigilant direction (she was a poor 
white), Mrs. Washington's kettle was soon playing its 
part in soup-making for the hospital, and more of its 
companions were quickly in like manner pressed into 
this new duty of helping to furnish good food for 
hated "Yankees." And strange to say, as soon as one 
or two kettles were seized by martial process, every 
woman in town seemed to be willing to tell of her neigh- 
bor to save herself. Of course, I had plenty of com- 
plaints, and visits from indignant dames, some complain- 
ing, some threatening, and some appealing to my 
sympathy, some even on the ground of acquaintance in 
their girlish days when they were in school in Philadel- 
phia at Picots, or Mrs. Gardelle's; but somehow I sur- 
vived the War of the Kettles. 

After reporting by letter to Surgeon Chiselin, Gen- 
eral Sheridan's Medical Director, I received instructions 
to forward the wounded north, both Union and Rebel, 
and to send supplies to the front as rapidly as possible. 
At the same time, I was to establish a large tent hospital 
on a plateau in the immediate vicinity of the town, near 
a fine spring and stream of running water. The hospital 
was to be of a capacity of four to five thousand beds, 
and to be well equipped. I therefore made, by tele- 
graph, requisition on the Surgeon-General's office for, 
I think, 500 tents, each tent holding comfortably eight 
sick beds. I also made requisition in the same way for 
500 stoves, and these, I was told, would be (and indeed 
were) promptly sent me, for in a few hours, the wagon- 
trains containing them began to arrive. To pitch 500 



Sheridan's Campaign and Field Work 297 

Cents (hospital tents) was no slight matter. I was 
directed to call upon the post commandant at Win- 
chester for the necessary details of men. Fortunately, 
I had been so long on duty at Washington that I had 
learned how to take a sufficiently large view of work 
to be done, and to be sufficiently imperious in exacting 
the assistance of others. I therefore, called upon the 
Colonel acting as a Brigadier-General in command at 
Winchester, telling him I wanted men to pitch tents. 
He was a little uppish, as behooved his dignity, but after 
some hesitation, he said, "Well, Doctor, I will give you 
a few men; how many do you want?" I wish you 
could have seen his astonishment when I answered, "At 
least five or six hundred with their full complement of 
officers." "Impossible," said he, "I never heard of such 
a demand." But I told him I made the demand, and 
should do so in writing, and instantly report his answer 
by telegraph to Washington, as I was acting by special 
orders from the Surgeon-General's office, direct from 
the War Department. His change of manner was im- 
mediate. "The men will be ready in the early morn- 
ing, and the officers should have special orders"; and 
so it was. That night, September 24, 1864, having 
previously ridden over the ground and marked the 
boundary of the hospital to be, I put a medical officer 
in charge, and drew out the plan of the hospital. The 
tents were to be pitched free, end to end, between wooden 
frameworks for the attachment of the tent ropes, and 
with wide streets. This would have formed good wards, 
capable of being easily heated by stoves, and well ven- 
tilated, and containing about twenty-five patients each. 
I went to bed, well satisfied with my plans, leaving 
orders to start work at the earliest hour in the morning 
of the 25th of September. The surgeon in charge whom 



298 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

I had selected, was a man of high scientific attainment, 
and I anticipated a superb hospital. In the morning, as 
soon as I had dispatched my necessary office work, I 
hurried out to see how my hospital was getting along. 
On reaching the ground, I found what looked to be 
a series of canvas tenpin alleys, long, narrow, snaky- 
looking constructions. My precious surgeon had, on 
his own responsibility, changed my plans, and pitched 
six hospital tents end to end in violation of every sani- 
tary and hygienic consideration, and without ventila- 
tion, either inside or out. I was stupefied at the sight, 
but the mischief was done; — the tents were up and time 
pressed. All that I could do was to order the third 
and fourth of each group to be struck down, thus form- 
ing a central narrow street, and leaving the tents in 
groups of two. I was dreadfully mortified at the ap- 
pearance, but I ordered the remaining tents to be prop- 
erly pitched, despite the resulting unsymmetrical appear- 
ance which was thus given to the whole company. It 
was the best I could do under the circumstances. After 
this, the equipment of the hospital was rapidly pushed 
and the occupation by patients effected. To give an idea 
of what I did at Winchester, I insert a copy of my 
report to the Surgeon-General: 

"Winchester, Va., Sept. 26th, 1864. 
General : — 

I have already forwarded you telegrams, indicating 
my action here. I have the honor now to report more 
fully. On my arrival here on the night of June 21st, I 
found matters in much confusion. Every exertion pos- 
sible has been made by Assistant Surgeon General 
DuBois, U. S. A. in charge, of the hospitals, to systema- 
tize relief for the wounded, but the scanty supplies, the 
filthy condition of the town, and the number of the 



Sheridan^ s Campaign and Field Work 299 

wounded, rendered the matter one of extreme difficulty. 
By the morning of the 22nd, all of the wounded were 
collected from the houses near the field, and were brought 
to hospitals in or near the town, and within our picket 
lines. On the afternoon of the 22nd, 188 hospital tents 
arrived by wagons. I directed these to be pitched in an 
eligible situation, close to a fine spring near the town, and 
placed Surgeon Hayden, U. S. V., in charge. 108 tents 
have arrived since and are being pitched, — in all 296. 
104 tents, the balance of the 400 sent, were by General 
Sheridan's orders pitched at Sandy Hook to increase the 
capacity of that hospital. The supply of medicine in 
hospital stores has been exceedingly scanty, only eight 
wagon loads having as yet arrived, and these were rapidly 
exhausted. A train is now on the way hither. Of 
blankets and hospital clothing we have none. I directed 
Surgeon Shields, who has been appointed Purveyor of 
the Army, to obtain 5000 from the Quartermaster at 
Harper's Ferry. I also instructed him to make a requisi- 
tion on the Purveyor at Baltimore for such additional 
supplies as he might stand in need of. Cooking appa- 
ratus, etc., I obtained on application to the Provost Mar- 
shal. Yesterday morning, the 25th instant, I sent 1200 
wounded to Harper's Ferry, as the railroad to Washing- 
ton was not yet opened. 

I last night received instructions from the Army 
Headquarters to send ofif all light cases. Union and 
Rebel, to Martinsburg. Asst. Surgeon Ohhschloger has 
been assigned to duty in charge of transportation at that 
point. The severe cases I am instructed to place m the 
tents, and as fast as the latter become empty to transfer 
them to Martinsburg, the new army base. 

I telegraphed you this morning, requesting that the 
Quartermaster's Department may be furnished with 150 
wood stoves, suitable for hospital tents. The weather is 
becoming cold, the town is overcrowded, and I must get 
the wounded into the tents as soon as possible. There 



300 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

probably will be 1500 men who cannot be moved for 
some weeks. 

P. S. Since writing the foregoing, a large train of 
medical supplies, and also 3000 blankets have arrived. 

Very respfty. yr. Obt. svt. 

J. H. BRINTON, 
Surg. U. S. Vols. Chf. Medl. Officer." 

My time in Winchester was spent in very hard work, 
but the results were satisfactory to me. I had all ready 
in forty-eight hours, and this was the largest hospital 
of the war. I had lodging for the four or five days in 
a store-keeper's house. Of course, nearly everybody 
was Southern in their opinions. They hated us, but 
they had to put up with us, and indeed, tried their best 
to make out of us all the money that they could. There 
was, however, some Union feeling, but I think it was 
confined to people of the Quaker descent, who had a 
good deal of the business of the place in their hands. 
One of these families I came to know. Their name was, 
I think, Griffith, and before the war, I believe, they had 
been millers. I took tea at the house, and visited there 
once or twice. They were very nice people and de- 
votedly attached to the Union. One of the ladies told 
me that they had always managed to keep the national 
flag, and whenever the Union troops occupied Win- 
chester, they were able to hang the Stars and Stripes 
from the porch. This irritated their rebel neighbors 
greatly, and just as soon as the Union troops would 
retire, and the town again become in the possession 
of the Confederate forces, they would become subjected 
to domiciliary visits, and the house would be most rigidly 
searched. But their flag was never discovered, and from 
what they said, it was either very securely hidden or 



Sheridan s Campaign and Field Work 301 

else on the person of some of the ladies, which was 
most Hkely. 

During this time, the subsistence and medical sup- 
plies of the place were very short. We had hardly 
enough to eat, and there was much deprivation and 
suffering which I hardly like to recall. We had a large 
number of wounded rebel prisoners, some eleven or 
twelve hundred, I think. These were penned up, or 
confined in an open square, fronting on the main street, 
and surrounded by a high iron railing, such as Wash- 
ington Square, and the squares generally in Philadelphia 
used to have. These poor fellows were without cover- 
ing or shelter of any kind, and what was far worse, 
we had scarcely any rations to give them. In fact so 
closely did Mosby and guerillas watch all the roads and 
the outskirts of the town, that neither food nor prov- 
ender could be brought, save under heavy escort. We 
had really almost nothing, and I know one or two morn- 
ings when the Commissary of Subsistence had only two 
or three hundred rations in store, and they were nothing 
among so many. Our poor prisoners were almost 
starved, and I have seen them struggle almost to the 
death for a biscuit or crust, thrown over the iron paling 
by their sympathetic friends. It was a pitiable sight, 
heart-breaking, but we could not help it. Their 
wounded in the hospital fared better ; they got the same 
food as our own; we made no distinction, and never 
did in my whole experience of our war. 

I worked very hard at Winchester; I think I did 
good work, furthering the operations of the Medical 
Department, and preventing much suffering to the 
wounded of both sides. You can therefore imagine 
my surprise (or at least, it would have been surprise 
had I not been so long on duty in Washington) when 



302 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

I received the following, forwarded to me from Har- 
per's Ferry, by Doctor Blaney: 

[telegram] 

"Washington, D. C, 

Sept. 24-1864. 
To Surgeon Blaney, 
Medl. Director. 
Detail some competent Medical Officer as Acting Di- 
rector at Harper's Ferry, and go forward at once to 
Winchester, Virginia. Relieve Surg. J. H. Brinton, U. S. 
Vols, of his duties there, and report your arrival by 
telegraph to this office. 

J. H. BARNES, 

Surg. Genl. 
A true copy 

Jos. V. Z. Blaney, 
Surgeon U. S. Vols. 
Chief Medl. Director, 
At Winchester, Va. 

(and the original of the next). 

Surgeon General's Office, 

Washington, D. C. 

Sept. 25th, 1864. 
Surgeon J. H. Brinton, 
Winchester, Va. 
Upon the arrival of Surgeon Blaney, turn over your 
instructions to him, and return to Washington. 

JOSEPH K. BARNES, 

Surgeon General. 



A true Copy 
S. G. O. 
Oct. 4, 1864. 



C. H. Crane, 

Surgeon, U. S. A.' 



Sheridan's Campaign and Field Work 303 

I could hardly make this out. I rather suspected that 
somehow or other, I had come to grief. I had, as it 
were, a presentiment, but still I hurried on with prepara- 
tions. I turned over my instructions to Surgeon Blaney, 
U. S. v., and then had to wait a few hours for an 
escort or guard. The Post Commandant was very kind, 
and said he would make some excuse and send a strong 
guard to Martinsburg, the next morning, and I could 
travel with them. Martinsburg was distant about twenty 
miles. In the meantime, I visited a good many cases in 
the houses in Winchester, among others, a Colonel from 
New York, who was mortally wounded, and near his 
end. 

It became known in Winchester, the day before I 
started, that I was going to Washington. Several of 
the Southern ladies were anxious that I should carry 
up letters for them to their friends in the North. Among 
others, a lady belonging to the family of General Faunt- 
leroy of the Confederate Army, called upon me, and 
begged me to take several letters to the Surgeon-General, 
Dr. Barnes, who had married a Miss Fauntleroy. Un- 
der the circumstances, I said I would do so, and accord- 
ingly took charge of the package, promising to put it 
in the hands of General Barnes myself. In former 
times, I had known Dr. Barnes very well, that is, soon 
after I came to Washington. He was then on duty as 
Surgeon in attendance upon officers of the regular army 
and their families in Washington. I used to meet him 
almost every day in the corridors of Willard's Hotel, 
and we would have long talks together. He was full 
of news, especially as to what was going on in the 
South, and as to the future dangers to Washington, 
which seemed not to grieve him greatly. 

Surgeon Barnes was from Pennsylvania, and had 



304 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

served in the Mexican War, had been quite a favorite 
with, and indeed, I beheve, the personal medical at- 
tendant of old General Scott, who, toward the close of 
his life, held the grade of Lieutenant-General. During 
his medical attendance of the regular officers. Dr. Barnes 
attracted the notice of the Secretary of War, Mr. Edwin 
M. Stanton, who took a great fancy to him. On the 
9th of February, 1863, ^^ had been appointed Medical 
Inspector, with the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel; on the 
loth of August, 1863, Medical Inspector-General, with 
the rank of Colonel. He was afterwards created Act- 
ing-Surgeon-General, and as we have seen Surgeon- 
General on Hammond's dismissal. So he proved him- 
self a successful man, and the Secretary of War was 
his friend, and he was the Secretary's. But I had 
noticed from the days of our confidential and whispered 
chats at Willard's, when he used to talk in a very un- 
guarded way of what was going on in the South, in 
proportion as he rose in rank and position, he became 
more and more reserved. Indeed, I fancied that since 
he had become Surgeon-General, he rather chafed at 
my presence, so that I had kept out of his way, as 
much as possible forgetting the past. Altogether I had 
tried to be as prudent as possible, remembering that new 
dignities change men, and that there are times when 
it is best that "auld acquaintance" should be forgot. Now 
all this is merely introductory to the delivery of these 
letters. 

On the following morning, the day on which I left 
Winchester, I was furnished with an escort of thirty 
or forty mounted men, and started with one or two 
ambulances full of wounded, and with an ambulance 
wagon for myself, in which I had the pleasure of taking 
down a very pretty girl, in some way connected with 



Sheridan's Campaign and Field Work 305 

the Griffith family of Winchester, whom I have men- 
tioned. She was engaged to be married to a Union 
officer and wished to reach Philadelphia or New York 
to procure her trousseau. We had a very pleasant trip 
to Martinsburg. Our escort threw out cavalry men as 
flankers, who rode a couple of hundred yards on either 
side of our train, and not far from them, a number of 
guerillas rode in parallel lines, following us to within 
a mile of Martinsburg, but apparently not maliciously 
inclined; at all events, they did not fire on us. From 
Martinsburg, I telegraphed to the Surgeon-General: 

"I have been relieved by Surgeon Blaney at Win- 
chester on 28th. Have arrived here with train of 
wounded; have received no orders. Shall I return to 
Washington? Address me at Harper's Ferry." 

I then transferred my wounded (two hundred and 
fifty) to Acting-Assistant Surgeon Ochschlager and 
reported to Gen. Thomas Neill. My ambulance, I 
directed to report to the post quartermaster, and then 
to Surgeon Blaney at Winchester. We arrived at this 
town toward evening, September 30, 1864, and were 
obliged to stay there over night. As I was walking in 
the main street, a gentleman came up to me, and ab- 
ruptly said, "Do you know anything of Colonel — ^ — ," 
mentioning the name of the officer I had seen at Win- 
chester, as I have stated above. "Yes," said I, "I saw 
him yesterday." "How is he?" "Dying," said I. "Oh, 
my God," gasped a female voice behind me, and turn- 
ing, I saw a beautiful young woman to whom I was 
presented. She was the Colonel's wife from New York, 
and was trying to reach Winchester. She asked me all 
about him, but I had a hopeless story to tell. She 
was anxious to get on, but no wagon-train would leave 
until the morning. She would not come into the house, 



306 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

say what I would, but anxiously and hopelessly trod 
that street, hour after hour, fearing that she might 
miss some possible conveyance. I promised to send her 
on with the returning escoiPt, but she could not rest. 
At last she hired an old negro, who, with a wretched 
vehicle, and still more wretched horse, agreed to try 
and get her through. I gave her a card to Mr. Mosby 
and his men, stating who and what she was, and beg- 
ging them to let her pass. I had afterwards the satis- 
faction to know that she did reach Winchester un- 
molested, and, contrary to my expectations, in time to 
find her husband still living and conscious. 



CHAPTER XXV 

RELIEVED FROM DUTY IN SURGED N-GENERAL^S OFFICE 

On reaching Washington, I at once saw Surgeon- 
General Barnes, and gave him the package of letters 
from his wife's family, and the private verbal messages, 
sent by me. He seemed quite abashed when I spoke 
to him about them, and I thought, looked rather sheep- 
ish. However, I did not say anything about my return, 
but after my interview with him, went to my own office, 
farther down the avenue, near the War Department. 
Here in my desk, I found this order: 

''WAR DEPARTMENT. 

Surg. Genl's Office, 
SPECIAL September 30, 1864. 

ORDER Reed. 

No. 324. Adjt. General's Office, 

Washington, Sept. 29, 1864. 
[Extract] 

17. Surg. John H. Brinton, U. S. Vols, is hereby 
relieved from duty in the Surgeon General's Office, and 
will report in person without delay to Asst. Surgeon 
Genl. R. C. Wood, U. S. Army, at Louisville, Ky., for 
assignment to duty. 

By order of the Secretary of War. 

(Sd) E. D. TOWNSEND, 
Official Asst. Adjt. General. 

E. D. Townsend, 

Asst. Adjt. Genl. 
Surgeon John H. Brinton, 
Thro. Surgeon General." 
307 



308 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

This was not unexpected. I had been long enough 
on duty in the Surgeon-General's office to read the signs 
of the times, and I felt certain, from the manner of my 
relief at Winchester, that something was in the wind. 
That same day, I saw Dr. Crane, U. S. A., the Chief 
Medical Officer of the Surgeon-General's Office, and 
asked him about turning over property, etc. I also 
asked him what was the true cause of my being sent 
away, and whether there was any real cause of dissatis- 
faction with my duties in the Surgeon-General's office. 
His answer was this, "Doctor, what is General McClel- 
lan's middle narrie? George Brinton McClellan — that's 
all I can say," and then he told me that I would turn 
over all my property and duties to Dr. Otis of the Volun- 
teer Surgeons, who would arrive from the South in a 
day or two. 

So my literary work was thus cut short, and I was 
to leave Washington. At heart I was delighted ; I hated 
the manual work of writing, and the sense of relief was 
immense, though I loved the Army Museum and all 
that belonged to it, — the trips to the front and the 
hospital visits, — everything in fact but the writing. 

Why I was relieved from my bookmaking in Wash- 
ington, which was the preparation of the Surgical His- 
tory of the War, I have often wondered; I never knew 
and do not know now. It must have been from one 
of two causes, or from both of them combined, viz., 
first my literary and museum work may have been in 
the opinion of the Surgeon-General unsatisfactory; 
second, I may have been personally objectionable to 
the Secretary of War. 

As to the first causes : I think my work, literary and 
otherwise, was satisfactory to the head of my depart- 



Relieved From Duty 309 

ment, at least Dr. Crane assured me that there was no 
complaint, and that they were satisfied at the office with 
me. I have already hinted that I had imagined my 
presence was disagreeable to Surgeon-General Barnes. 
I had known him too well, when he first came to Wash- 
ington, but still I think I had been, I know at all events, 
I had tried to be, discreet. In Washington, in bureau 
life at that time, everyone had enemies. The "outs" 
wanted to become the "ins," and everyone who was in, 
ipso facto, became a target for the malice of his enemies. 
I suppose in the very nature of things, that that kind 
of target practice was not only justifiable, but even 
praiseworthy, and by some, considered patriotic. 

Apropos of this, I remember well that on one occa- 
sion. Dr. Barnes, after he became Surgeon-General, 
called me into his private office, and standing before 
the open fire, said, "Doctor Brinton, I will read this 
note to you, and then burn it." And he read an 
anonymous note addressed to him, denouncing me, say- 
ing that I was a friend of the overthrown William 
Hammond, and a secret enemy of Dr. Barnes, and 
warning him against me. I looked at it, thought I 
recognized the style of expression as that of a rival, 
and handed it back to him. He dropped it in the fire, 
saying, *'I have forgotten it," but he always afterwards 
seemed to regard me with suspicion, and to hold him- 
self aloof. 

As to the Secretary of War, Mr. Stanton, he did look 
upon me, and justly, as a friend of Dr. Hammond; the 
ex- Surgeon-General Hammond, in his view, was crimi- 
nal, for the latter had differed in his opinion from the 
Secretary. Now, in my judgment, the Secretary looked 
upon men from his own peculiar standpoint. He was, 



310 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

I think, an honest man, and patriotic, but very strong 
in his own convictions. Believing himself to be right, 
he regarded all those who differed in opinion from him as 
wrong thinkers, and wrong-doers, criminals, in fact, and 
that it was his duty as Secretary of War to punish 
them, when he conveniently could. Now, I not only 
was a friend of Hammond's, but a relative, a blood- 
relative of General McClellan, who, high in the esteem 
of the Democratic party, and a possible candidate for 
the presidency of the United States, was in the eyes 
of Mr. Stanton little less wicked than the Arch Fiend 
himself. 

Then, too, there was someone at the Secretary's elbow, 
ready to point out any of my personal delinquencies. 
This came about in this wise. 

When I was living at the Metropolitan Club, three or 
four weeks before that time, at our table-d'hote, there 
sat opposite me an old gentleman, named Lewis, I 
think, from West Chester. He had some auditing ap- 
pointment, and was quite a friend, and in fact a crony, 
of the Secretary of War. McClellan at that time was 
being talked of as a Presidential candidate. This man, 
Lewis, disliked him, and could not abuse him enough. 
Now political abuse of a candidate for public office is 
perhaps fair enough, as things go, but on one occa- 
sion this old fellow went beyond the public limits, and 
began to abuse my cousin George's personal character; 
he said he knew McClellan's character, and that he was 
a coward, as all his Mother's (my Aunt's) family were. 
This I could not permit, so I spoke out loudly before 
the whole table, saying I was sure that one of the family 
believed in personal responsibility, and then I gave him 
the lie direct, owning my relationship to McClellan, and 



Relieved From Duty 311 

warning him at his peril, never to make slanderous re- 
marks again. He sat aghast and speechless, and I never 
saw him again. But Mr. Nicolay, President Lincoln's 
Secretary, who was present, said to me, that while I 
did perfectly right, he was afraid I would hear of this 
again, as the man was a friend of Secretary Stanton. 

I never did hear of him again until, very many years 
afterwards, when the man was near his end, someone 
came to ask me professionally about his case. 

One other possible cause, call it No. 3, might have 
been this : I saw that the end of the war was approach- 
ing, and I knew that a great many capable and trained 
surgeons of U. S. Volunteers would be thrown back 
into civil life. It occurred to me that if a certain num- 
ber of them could be retained in the Regular Army, 
transferred, in fact, great efficiency in the Medical De- 
partment might be obtained. At the same time a corre- 
sponding number of Assistant Surgeons of the Regular 
Army might be promoted. So I arranged in my mind 
a scheme for the accomplishment of this end, which on 
submission seemed to be satisfactory both to the Sur- 
geons of Volunteers (Old Brigade-Surgeons) and to the 
Assistant Surgeons of the Regular Army (U. S. A.). 
Equal numbers of each were to be transferred and pro- 
moted to the rank of Surgeon, U. S. A. Even Surgeon- 
General Barnes appeared to approve of the plan, though 
I suspect that in heart he did not. In effect, it would 
have brought in the Surgeons of my Corps (U. S. 
Vols.), on equal and fair terms with the Assistant Sur- 
geon of the Regular Army. I doubt if this result was 
agreeable to the Surgeon-General. In fact, after the 
close of the war, a few of the old and experienced Sur- 
geons of Volunteers entered the army as Assistant Sur- 



312 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

geon, U. S. A., but at the foot of the hst, so that their 
long service and war experience went for nothing, in 
the matter of their new grade and rank. 

I moved in this matter, because, from my rank in my 
Corps, from my service, and from having been on duty 
in the Surgeon-General's Office, I was in some sort a 
representative of my Corps, and because, as I knew I 
should return to civil life, I had nothing to gain by 
reorganization. I could, therefore, with propriety, act. 
I was honest in my views, but I doubt if I was politic 
or wise. 

So from what I have thus egotistically written, I 
think I have shown you that between Stanton, Barnes 
and myself, a good case was made, why I should not 
remain longer at Washington, and why I should again 
start west. So I put the best face I could on it, and 
began to make my preparations to depart. 

In a few days, my successor, Surgeon Otis, U. S. 
Vols., arrived, and I then received the following order: 

"Surg. General's Office, 

Washington, D. C. 

October 3, 1864. 
Sir: 

Surgeon George A. Otis, U. S. Vols., will relieve you 
from the charge of the Department of this Office, which 
you now occupy, and also from the duties of Curator 
of the 'Army Medical Museum.' 

You will transfer to Surgeon Otis all official books, 
papers, records, funds, and property, of any description 
under your charge and he will receipt to you for those 
articles for which you are responsible. After turning 
over your property, etc., you will proceed without delay, 
to Louisville, Ky., and report to Assistant Surgeon Gen- 



Believed From Duty 313 

eral Wood, in compliance with Special Order No. 324, 
dated War Dept. Sept. 29th, 1864. 

Very respectfully yr. Obt. servt. 

By order of the Surgeon General, 
(Sd) C. H. GRANE, 

Surgeon, U. S. A. 
Surgeon J. H. Brinton, 
U. S. Volunteers, 

Surgeon General's Office." 

I immediately turned over my public property to my 
successor, settled up my accounts, and put my papers 
in order for Dr. Otis's use. It was rather a melancholy 
business, that departure, under all the circumstances, but 
really I was not sorry, and longed to be far away from 
Washington, out of reach of the wire-pulling and 
scheming and envy of that political place. I felt all 
the time as if my very clerks were laughing at me, and 
were watching me. So, turning over my official prop- 
erty, and packing up my private library, and my ana- 
tomical preparations, which I had brought on from Phila- 
delphia, to illustrate my proposed, but never given, 
course on military surgery, and which I sent back to 
Philadelphia, I was ready to depart. 

I had been a long time in Washington, and had many 
friends. To some of these, I said good-bye, and to 
one of them, Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas, I sent a picture. 
I had often joked with her when officers had been sent 
away from Washington under the displeasure of the 
Secretary of War,— exiled in fact, for the Secretary 
looked upon a detail to Louisville or St. Louis as a 
banishment, quite as in Russia they regard banishment 
to Siberia. Some officers took removal from Washing- 
ton as a rather hard fate, but I had often told Mrs. 



314 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Douglas that I was sure to be decapitated, but that when 
it came, like St. Denis (she, Mrs. Douglas, was a 
Catholic), I would lose my head with good grace. So 
I requested one of the artists of the Museum, Faber, 
a German of facile pencil, to make a pen-and-ink sketch 
of myself as St. Denis leaving the Museum, head in 
hand, for the region of the setting sun, with the bloody 
headman's sword, the unfinished work of the Surgical 
History of the War, etc. 

There is an odd sequel to this picture story, which I 
will give in the words of Dr. Otis, my successor. A 
month or two afterwards. Dr. Barnes heard of the St. 
Denis caricature, and expressed a wish to see it. Dr. 
Woodward had Faber make a copy from memory. A 
few additions were made, as the motto by Faber, "So 
Woodward says, but I suspect our friend of instigating," 
Dr. Otis writes. Faber's picture was photographed by 
Dr. Otis. The original was given to the Secretary of 
War by Dr. Barnes. Barnes, Crane, Thomson, Billings 
and Otis had copies, and two were sent to me at Nash- 
ville, where I then was, and the negative destroyed. 

From the motto "Si tacuisses Philosoph Mansisses" 
on the latter, you may infer that my tongue had been 
my enemy. Perhaps it was so, but dear me, what dif- 
ference! Stanton, Lewis, Barnes, Crane, Otis and my 
anonymous enemy, all are long since gone, and I can 
laugh at the very recollection of St. Denis. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

LOUISVILLE, ST. LOUIS, ROSECRANS' MISSOURI MARCH 

So, having finished my work at Washington and 
gladly shaking, as it were, the dust of the town from 
my feet, I left, and after a short stay at Philadelphia, 
reached Louisville in obedience to the War Department 
Order, and reported to the Assistant-Surgeon-General 
Wood for assignment to duty on the 15th of October, 
1864. By him, and his Assistant, Surgeon J. B. Brown, 
I was received with the greatest kindness. I was fresh 
from Washington, from the Surgeon-General's Office, 
and had all the news and gossip of the Department at 
my fingers' ends. 

They did not know exactly what to do with me. I 
had almost too much rank, and almost any assignment 
would disturb existing arrangements. Finally, they 
asked me if I would like to go to St. Louis, and report 
to my old friend Madison Mills, the Medical Director 
of the Department of the Missouri, commanded by Gen- 
eral Rosecrans. Of course, I assented with delight. I 
was glad to go to St. Louis, where a rather active cam- 
paign was just beginning, and I had much respect and 
admiration for Surgeon Mills, U. S. A., a man of 
executive ability, broad views, and a very decided char- 
acter. His views on all subjects were clear and strongly 
expressed. He had the reputation of being a man of 
means, acquired by fortunate speculation in land around 
Fort Leavenworth. My order ran thus: 

315 



316 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

"Assistant Surgeon General's Office, 

Louisville, Ky., Oct. 17, 1864. 

Surgeon John H. Brinton, U. S. V., having reported 
to the Asst. Surgeon General in obedience to Special 
Order No. 324, War Dept., Adjt. General's Office, Wash- 
ington, September 29th, 1864, is assigned to duty in the 
Department of the Missouri, and will report in person 
without delay, to Surgeon Mad. Mills, U. S. A., Medical 
Director, Department of the Missouri, St. Louis. 

JOSEPH B. BROWN, 

Act. Asst. Surgeon General, 

U. S. Army." 

I left Louisville on October i8th, and arrived in St. 
Louis on the 19th, went to the Lindell Hotel, and im- 
mediately afterwards reported at the Medical Director's 
Office to Surgeon Mills. My trunk not having yet 
arrived, I was in civilian's clothes. I excused myself 
for this breach of military decorum, at which the old 
gentleman, himself in citizen's dress, grunted a signifi- 
cant "Pah ! Come to the office to-morrow. Look 
around the town to-day." On the 21st, he gave me this 
order: I was to act as Medical Director in the field 
on General Rosecrans' staff in the campaign then going 
on in southwest Missouri; to me a delightful detail. 
The duty, however, was responsible. Rosecrans' army 
was thirty or forty thousand men, and was moving light 
and rapidly. He had not informed his Medical Director 
exactly where he was going, or where his base would 
be. Dr. Mills was quite in the dark, but this he told 
me : "Doctor, reach Rosecrans, find out where he wants 
his medical supplies if you can (I can't), and then estab- 
lish medical depots for thirty thousand men in two or 
three points ; keep me advised by telegraph, all the time, 



Louisville 317 

and I will see that you are supplied with medical stores 
and officers wherever you want them. Be sharp, learn 
all you can. Keep your subordinates well up in their 
work, and let me be daily informed what is wanted, how 
you are getting on, and I will support you in every way." 

Nothing could be more satisfactory and liberal than 
the old Doctor's instructions, and we both acted up to 
them. 

Having made the necessary arrangements, on the 24th 
of October I left St. Louis with horse and negro ser- 
vant. I went by rail as far as Hermann, which place 
I reached by night. I here put my horse on the steamer 
Lillie Martin, and stayed on board all night. On the 
morning of the 25th, the steamer started up the river, 
and in the afternoon about four o'clock, we reached 
Jefferson City the capital of Missouri, on the Missouri 
River. The river was low, and as we stuck on the 
sand every now and then, I had an opportunity of ad- 
miring the ingenious mode of raising up the bow of the 
boat by two poles, and then backing her off. At Jef- 
ferson City, I stayed a day and a half, appointing a 
Medical Purveyor, transferring to him the stores I 
brought with me, and arranging the hospital accom- 
modation of five hundred beds in anticipation of coming 
wounded. For this purpose, buildings were seized, and 
hospital tents were held in readiness for pitching. When 
pitched, these were to be heated by underground flues. 
Furnaces and caldrons for cooking I requisitioned from 
St. Louis, and I also requested additional medical officers 
to be sent on. Every request I made was promptly 
granted, and I was assisted in every way by the effi- 
cient action of the Medical Director, Surgeon Madison 
Mills, who was at all times ready to help me. I also 
perfected the telegraphic arrangements to keep up the 



318 Personal Memoirs of John H, Brinton 

communications with the headquarters and St. Louis, 
and to obtain fresh supplies as needed. 

When I finished my business at Jefferson City, I 
started on October 27th, by railroad, across the prairie 
in the direction of Sedalia, as far as Warrensburg, the 
railroad terminus, at which place I arrived at 4 P.M. 
Here, upon inquiring from the Commandant, I learned 
vaguely that Rosecrans was somewhere on the prairie, 
but exactly where, no one could tell. I also heard the 
pleasant information that the whole country was full 
of guerillas, murdering and cutting the throats of 
stragglers at large. Now, 1 had to reach headquarters, 
so I concluded to leave my negro servant (as guerilla 
bands objected to negroes, and usually gave those cap- 
tured short shrift) at Warrensburg, and pushed on alone, 
trusting to luck to get through. But just as I was start- 
ing, I was told that a body of horse (Union forces) were 
encamping on the hills beyond the town. Riding out 
to see who they were, to my great joy I found the 
camp to be that of General Rosecrans and his staff. 
Almost the first person I saw was my old friend Scull, 
whom I have mentioned so often. He could scarcely 
believe his eyes; he thought I must be an apparition, 
my own ghost — to part in Pennsylvania Avenue and to 
meet on a slight hill in Missouri Prairie, exactly as 
when I had last seen him I jokingly prophesied I would 
do! However, he was glad to meet me, offering me 
a part of his tent, and, as he explained, thus getting 
rid of the Provost Marshal, a Captain on the Staff, 
whose function it was to hang guerilla murderers and 
spies, and who could not help reverting to the subject 
afterward, especially to his mess mate and tent com- 
panion. As Scull was a delicate-minded man, despite 
his gloomy name, the Provost Marshal's presence dis- 



Louisville 319 

tressed him. As he put it, "I would even prefer yours," 
so I found quarters before even reporting to General 
Rosecrans. 

In a few minutes General Rosecrans came out of his 
tent, and I was presented to him, and submitted my 
orders. As Scull vouched for my being a reasonably 
good fellow, and a "white elephant" from Washing- 
ton, the General was very nice and gave me a warm 
welcome. Somehow or other, I said something about 
soap, — I believe in this way. A fire had been built in 
front of our tents, as evening closed in. The wind was 
high, and the smoke drifted in our faces, and some 
allusion was made to the cleaning powers of soap. The 
General addressed his conversation chiefly to me, and 
I listened well. He had been much interested in the 
manufacture of soap before entering the army (he was 
a West Point graduate), and once on his favorite topic 
he talked and talked. The men of the staff dropped 
off to their tents and sleep, but still he talked, and 
still I listened. But he became after that a good friend 
of mine, although Scull stuck to it that it was the 
influence of soap. 

He proved a kind friend to me. Talkative in some 
respects, he was close enough in others, and I had hard 
work to find out which way he would go, or where our 
medical supplies should be sent. The course of events, 
however, settled themselves. In a few hours. General 
Pleasanton, in charge of the cavalry arrived, having one 
or two of the rebel generals prisoners, and reporting that 
the raiding forces under the southern general. Price, 
"Pap Price," as he was called, had been driven out 
of Missouri, and had crossed the Osage River. The 
campaign was thus finished, and General Rosecrans with 
his staff determined to return to St. Louis. The fight- 



320 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

ing had taken place at Marais des Cygnes, and General 
Pleasanton's wounded, which amounted to about 360, 
had been sent to Kansas City for treatment, so I counter- 
manded my orders as to suppHes. 

The generals we had captured, Marmaduke and 
Cabell, seemed good sort of fellows, and we had long 
talks around our camp-fires. In returning, the troops 
crossed the prairie by rapid marches. They had marched 
already thirty-five and forty miles a day, and here I 
may say in passing, that General Rosecrans possessed a 
wonderful capacity of marching men, a rare accom- 
plishment. He would at night know where every 
brigade or regiment or separate command would be. 
He excelled, too, in making such judicious arrangements, 
that the artillery, baggage-trains, etc., would never be 
in the way of the marching foot. His line of march 
was never blocked. 

As we, that is, headquarters, steamed across the 
prairie, in train from Warrensburg, we passed the march- 
ing troops. One of our generals, A. J. Smith, was 
greatly beloved by his men. He was an old Indian 
frontier soldier, and had been on continuous duty there 
for many years. At the time he came up to us at 
Warrensburg, he had just lost a favorite horse, a "single- 
footed racker." He said that it had been stolen and 
he swore "he would hang the scoundrel if he caught 
the thief." He sat on the back platform of the car, to 
see if he could discover his horse in the marching column. 
The men seemed to know what he was after, and as he 
was adored by them all for his soldierly qualities, they 
cheered him all along the line of march, as our train 
flew by. At Jefferson City, we spent the night of March 
22nd on board the steamer, and in the morning started 
down the river, stopping for a little while at a place 



Louisville 321 

called Hermann on the right bank, I think, of the Mis- 
sissippi. The little place had been settled by Germans, 
and one of them to whose house we went, grew a grape 
from which she made a wine, much like Assmanhauser, 
a wine I always liked. We drank a bottle of it with 
gusto. Hermann's was the only American Assman- 
hauser. I often thought of this wine, contrasting it 
in my mind most favorably with other American wines. 

By November 3rd, at 8.30 P.M., we were again at 
St. Louis, and I settled down to do almost nothing for 
a month. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

ST. LOUIS 

When I asked kind old Madison Mills what my duties 
were to be, he said, "Drop down and see me every morn- 
ing, then go see the girls, and go to parties. If I have 
anything for you to do, I'll let you know." 

On the 7th of November, I was detailed as President 
of an Army Medical Board, which was in session in 
St. Louis. The Board was in a sort of permanent ses- 
sion, and the duties had become almost nominal. Thus 
my life for a month was a life of leisure, and in order 
to carry out Dr. Mill's instructions, I sent home for 
my dress-coat and had as good a time as I could. 

I lived with my friend Scull at the Lindell Hotel, 
dined at General Rosecrans' table, paid a visit every 
day to the office, rode on horseback, called on the ladies, 
attended to social duties, dressed carefully for dinner, 
and went to parties, where my dress-coat, almost a 
solitary one at that time in St. Louis, was derisively 
spoken of as a "steel-pen coat." 

Society then in St. Louis was divided into two parties 
or sections, Union and Secesh. One dancing club, I 
forget which, was called the Imperial, and the other I 
have even forgotten the name of. I belonged to both, 
and went regularly, and was having, as they say, "a good 
time." Society in St. Louis was queer. One old gen- 
tleman by the name of Clement, a very rich man, gave 
a gorgeous dinner to the General and the staff. He sat 

322 



St. Louis 323 

at table with his hat on. He said he had a cold, and 
his friends seemed to think it quite the proper thing. 

With all this gaiety going on, I still did some good in 
this month of pleasure. I saved a young girl's life, thus : 
A young woman in southwestern Missouri, only seventeen 
or eighteen years of age, had a lover in a rebel guerilla 
band. At his instigation, she cut down a telegraph 
pole, cut the wire, interpreted a most important tele- 
gram, and as a consequence of its non-transmittal, sev- 
eral thousand of our troops were marching at cross 
purposes, and an important military operation came to 
naught or worse. The girl was caught and admitted 
the charge, indeed, rather gloried in it. Rosecrans was 
furious and ordered her tried by a court martial of some 
kind, and she was condemned to be hanged. His staff 
and many other of the officers were dreadfully con- 
cerned, and represented to him the odium of executing 
a woman. But he was inexorable. He was an obstinate 
man, and reasoned, not illogically, that such a deed in 
war, by a civilian, deserved death, be the perpetrator 
man or woman. Nothing would move him. In de- 
spair, some of his staff and best friends consulted me, 
as to what I could do. I saw the poor creature in the 
military prison of St. Louis. She was almost half- 
witted. I told her what answers to give to certain of 
my leading questions, knowing that Rosecrans was a 
strict Catholic, and that under certain circumstances, 
he dared not hang the woman. Indeed, I told him more 
than one lie about her, and finally he countermanded the 
order of execution, when she apparently had but a few 
hours to live. She was chained, and it was to me a 
horrible sight to see a woman chained. Rosecrans told 
me plainly that under the circumstances, while he did 
not believe what I said, he would forgive me for the 



324 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

motive of saying it. We were all greatly relieved at 
the happy termination of this affair. 

On December i, 1864, Dr. Madison Mills was ap- 
pointed Medical Inspector-General in place of Barnes, 
promoted to the Surgeon-Generalcy. The Surgeon- 
General wrote him of his appointment, addressing the 
letter in his own handwriting, "Colonel Madison Mills." 
I came down to the office the day the letter arrived, 
before the Medical Director, and recognizing the Sur- 
geon-General's handwriting and surmising the contents 
of the letter, put it conspicuously on Dr. Mills's desk. 
The Doctor saw it, but would not touch or open it, and 
was quite confused when we all called him "Colonel." 
Finally, he opened and read it. After a while, he said 
to me, "You know Washington, would you take this 
appointment if you were I?" I replied, "If you take 
it, and go to Washington, in a month you will be in 
hot water. You are too independent to hold a post 
which is so nominal and useless as the Medical Inspector 
Generalship's now is. You will try to do something, 
and will come in collision with the Surgeon-General and 
others. You are not subservient enough for the place." 
He laughed, but he did accept the office, and it turned 
out exactly as I predicted. 

In a letter of November 14, 1864, I thus wrote to 
Dr. DaCosta : "I have seen a great deal of Rosecrans. 
In fact he has taken a fancy to me, and we are quite 
intimate. He is a good strategist, no tactician, no ad- 
ministrator, a religious enthusiast, a fair chemist, and 
an excellent soap manufacturer. His skill in the last 
capacity is his peculiar pride. He will talk hour after 
hour on the subject; he never wearies when on his be- 
loved hobby of soap." 

On the 7th of December. 1864, I wrote to my Mother, 



St. Louis 325 

a letter, a portion of which I copy, and which explains 
itself: "Your letter catches me on the wing. Let me 
tell you the how and wherefore: General Rosecrans 
has taken quite a fancy to me, and on old Dr. Mills's 
being promoted recently to the Medical Inspector-Gen- 
eralship, the General sent a very strong telegram to 
Washington, asking that I should be appointed the Medi- 
cal Director of the Department. The reply from the 
Secretary of War was a telegram, ordering me to 
Louisville at once to the Assistant Surgeon-General. I 
shall most probably be sent to Nashville as the Director. 
Both the Secretary and Barnes were very savage. Al- 
though I am inconvenienced, I chuckle mightily at show- 
ing them all in Washington, that if I am a 'singed cat' 
there, I have made friends here. I believe Rosecrans 
is really attached to me." 

General Rosecrans and Medical Director Mills un- 
questionably had meant to do me a kindness, when they 
telegraphed that I should be made Medical Director on 
Dr Mills leaving St. Louis, but as I stated in my letter 
to my Mother, I afterwards learned that the Secretary 
of War was very much enraged at their suggestion; 
why, it is hard to say. The telegram he sent me, re- 
ceived while at an evening party, was sent by his own 
Assistant Adjutant-General, ordering a reply by tele- 
graph. Under ordinary circumstances, it was strictly 
forbidden by War Department orders for an officer 
not on command, to use telegrams for Washington an- 
swers. Moreover, I was not wanted in Louisville as 
events showed. There was difficulty in assigning me a 
post. I was quite in ignorance of the cause of my relief 
until from Dr. Mills and General Rosecrans I learned 
of what had taken place, and of the Secretary s 
resignation. 



326 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

I immediately got ready to leave, and on the 8th of 
December I arrived at Louisville, went to the Gait 
House, and at once reported to the Assistant Surgeon- 
General, where I was kindly received by the Assistant 
Surgeon-General, Colonel Wood, and the chief of his 
office, Surgeon Brown. 

On the 9th I received an order to go to Nashville, 
Tennessee, and was assigned to duty as Superintendent 
and Director of the general hospital at that place. 

The duties of this office were somewhat vague. It 
had been found that whenever general hospitals were 
grouped, it was expedient that some medical officer 
should be appointed, clothed with authority to act finally 
upon such matters as were of immediate importance to 
the welfare of the patients, to avoid the delay of re- 
ferring matters of business to the Medical Director of 
the Department, often absent. In this way, requisitions 
could be acted upon at once and contracts with citizen 
physicians and nurses made without delay. Necessarily 
a great deal was left to the discretion and common sense 
of the superintendent. 

In my letter home of the 14th, I state that I had 
arrived safely and found the City of Nashville almost 
in a state of partial siege. The Southern General (Hood) 
had moved northward, had crossed the Tennessee River, 
and had attacked our troops at Franklin, Tennessee, on 
the 30th of November. His object was to threaten, and 
if possible, to capture, the City of Nashville, forcing 
General Thomas to retreat and thus carry the campaign 
back to the Ohio River. 

In the attack at Franklin, he had failed with heavy 
loss, but General Thomas had slowly withdrawn his 
army to Nashville in order to strengthen his forces and 
remount his cavalry. Thomas was a man of great pru- 



St Louis 327 

dence and slow in movement, possibly over-cautious, 
and hence the delay which characterized his movements. 

On my arrival at Nashville, I was informed by 
Assistant Surgeon Dallas Bache, U. S. A., who was 
acting as the Director of Hospitals, that a battle was 
hourly expected, but that while there were a large num- 
ber of hospitals organized, there were comparatively 
few vacant beds. 

On assuming the office, I immediately directed all my 
efforts to extend the hospital accommodation already in 
existence. I therefore called upon Brigadier-General 
Miller, Post Commandant, to turn over to me for hos- 
pital purposes the Court House and all of the churches 
in the city. He immediately turned over to me all the 
churches, but it was considered that good reasons ex- 
isted for retaining the Court House. 

I encountered considerable opposition from the author- 
ities of the Catholic Church, as they objected to having 
their church turned into a hospital, and said that it 
would desecrate its sacred character. Father Kelly 
visited me, and was quite in earnest in his opposition; 
he said that churches were respected in war. I asked 
him to consider the events which had taken place in 
the Italian War, and reminded him that all of the 
Catholic churches in the city of Milan and elsewhere 
had been seized by a Catholic Prince, the Emperor 
Napoleon HI., and turned into hospitals. He laughed, 
admitted the fact, and then explained that the basement 
of one of the Catholic churches in Nashville was used 
by the Sisters as a home for the community, and that 
the sacred vestments had all been carried there. I told 
him that under those circumstances, I would place a 
military guard over all those portions of the building, 
and that no one should be allowed to mtrude. This 



328 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

was done. I afterwards learned that these facts were 
reported to General Rosecrans, who was at first very 
angry, and demanded the name of the medical officer 
so offending. He was told "Surgeon Brinton." "Oh, 
then!" said he, "it is all right." 

On the 15th and 17th of December, the battle of 
Nashville occurred. I saw it at first from a housetop 
and afterwards rode out to the line of battle four or 
five miles from the city. The enemy's attack was very 
fierce, but was repelled with great slaughter. I wit- 
nessed the fighting of the negro troops; they behaved 
well. Finally, the enemy was forced to retreat, and 
was vigorously pressed as far as the town of Franklin. 

Our wounded were rapidly brought in in great num- 
bers, and soon occupied all of our hospital accommoda- 
tions and the hospital tents, which had been hastily 
pitched. The wounded black troops were carried to 
the hospital which had been especially assigned to them. 
The wounded rebels were also in a day or two's time 
brought to the rebel prison hospital. The churches 
which had been seized answered well as hospitals, the 
pews had either been boarded over or removed, and all 
of the church hospitals were soon filled with wounded 
with the exception of the Episcopal church, which was 
inconvenient of arrangement. 

The negro hospital was in a series of four-storied 
warehouses, which were closely packed with wounded. 
All of the wounded in the hospitals were promptly and 
efficiently cared for, and as a rule, did well. 

Some curious occurrences took place with regard to 
the wounded prisoners. A young lady came to my 
office and asked to see a wounded prisoner of high rank. 
I told her that sisters, mothers and wives alone were 
allowed to see prisoners; was she either of these? She 



St. Louis 329 

said no, but she was willing to marry the gentleman 
in question, if that was the only way she could obtain 
permission to see him. I inquired and found that he 
was not badly wounded, I told her to come to see me 
on the following morning at a given hour. I sent 
for him to be brought to my office at the same hour, and 
so the interview was arranged, and no rule of service 
was broken. 

In another case a Southern prisoner, wounded and 
of high rank, begged my permission to ride outside of 
our lines to visit a lady to whom he was engaged, 
promising me on his word of honor to return at a given 
hour. I told him I could not do this, but that if he 
would give me his word of honor that I should not 
be injured by his people, I would ride with him; he 
could then make the visit he desired, and come back 
with me at a given hour. 

At ten o'clock, on the cold winter's night, we rode 
out together. We passed our pickets, and went to her 
father's house. My prisoner had a long interview with 
his lady love, while I sat in the adjoining parlor talk- 
ing to the sisters, and at the hour agreed upon we 
remounted, rattled along the pike, passed our picket 
line and sentry line (I having the password of the 
night). Then I accompanied my friend to his hos- 
pital, and there took leave of him. No harm came of 
this ride, but the lady in question changed her mind, 
and afterwards married a Union officer. On our re- 
turn, we came near being shot by our pickets of negro 
cavalry, whose minds work slowly, and who did not 
understand fully the use of a password. We rode 
right upon them, they challenged us fiercely, and we 
were obliged to dismount instantly to save ourselves 
from being shot. 



330 Personal Memoirs of John H. Biinton ' 

One or two of the Confederates, wounded and 
prisoners in our hands, were Masons, and I received 
several letters from the Order in the North, authorizing 
me to furnish them money. Another Southern officer 
was of Jewish birth. One of the most prominent and 
wealthiest bankers in New York, Belmont, authorized 
me to draw on him for any amount required. 

My Christmas dinner, I took at Governor Bank- 
head's. 

My office as Medical Director in Nashville was very 
stylish; I had three or four sentries and an excellent 
corps of clerks and cavalry orderlies. Some of my 
clerks were quite well educated. 

One day I was astonished to see an old lady de- 
scend from an old-fashioned carriage, and come into 
my front office, announcing herself as Mrs. Polk. She 
was the widow of President Polk and wished some- 
thing done, which I attended to at once. I gave her 
my arm to see her to her carriage, having sent out word 
to the sentries to salute as they would a General com- 
manding, and to fully present arms. I asked her never 
again to descend from her carriage, but always to send 
in for me, that I could never forget that she was the 
widow of a dead president. She seemed to be very 
much touched by these marks of respect, and invited 
me to her home. 

It was an old-fashioned residence of brick with a 
large yard. The tomb of her late husband, President 
Polk, was placed in the yard in full sight of her win- 
dows. She received me with great courtesy. The com- 
pany was entirely Southern in feeling. I went, of course, 
in uniform. One of the young ladies who had been 
from New York, but who was exceedingly Southern in 
her feelings, made a personal attack on me, and was 



St Louis 331 

very rude. I replied to her and told her that renegades 
were always more bitter than original enemies. Mrs. 
Polk learned, after I left, what had occurred. She 
reprimanded the young woman severely, saying that she 
would never have an officer of the United States in- 
sulted under her roof, and she forbade the offender 
ever to visit her home again until a sufficient explana- 
tion had been made. Mrs. Polk was the sister-in-law of 
the famous General-Bishop Polk. She always after- 
wards spoke well of me, and never forgot the respect 
with which she had been treated at my office. 

My quarters, when I first went to Nashville, were in 
the part of a house which belonged to a family of strong 
"Secesh" propensities. I shared my rooms with Cap- 
tain Jenny, an officer whom I had previously known at 
Shiloh. He was a graduate of the School of Topo- 
graphical Engineers in Paris, was commissioned as an 
Engineer in our army, and rendered immense service 
by his knowledge of roads and their construction, cor- 
duroying and the like. He originated the idea of sky- 
scrapers. 

Here let me relate an interesting incident which did 
not become generally known. Jenny had charge of a 
pontoon train. On the day of the fight at Nashville 
or the day after, in a pouring rain, I met him hurrying 
his train of boats away on the turnpike. I asked him, 
"Where are you going?" He said, "God knows, where 
a pontoon train can do the least possible good." 

When he came back a day or so afterwards, I asked 
him in the quiet of our chamber, "How about that pon- 
toon train?" He said, "That is a very good story and 
a very great secret. After the battle. General Thomas 
sent for me, and told me to take my train out on the 
Murfreesboro pike. I said, 'General, do you mean the 



332 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Murfreesboro Pike?' because I knew that was away 
from the enemy. He said, 'Yes, on the Murfreesboro 
Pike.' I went away, but I was uneasy in my mind, 
for I knew that a bridge train could not be wanted 
where there were no rivers, I turned and went back, 
and again I asked him, 'General, do you mean the 
Murfreesboro Pike?' He seemed heavy, but aroused 
himself, and half-angrily said, 'Yes, the Murfreesboro 
Pike, go and execute your orders.' 

"I went and led out my pontoon, as directed, and the 
next day was recalled by a messenger, when the General 
discovered his mistake. He had meant to say the 
Granny White Pike, but at the time of the battle, he 
had had no rest or sleep for two or three days and 
nights; he was sleeping heavily when aroused to give 
my order, was dazed, confounded the Murfreesboro 
with the Granny White Pike and gave me the useless 
order. If the train had been sent on the pike, on which 
it should have been sent, it could have been used at 
Duck River and other streams, and the probability is 
that the entire forces of the enemy would have been 
captured. As it was, they reached Franklin, slowly re- 
treated southward and succeeded in making good their 
escape by crossing the Tennessee River, and thus reach- 
ing Alabama safely." * 

A tolerably good public order was maintained at 
Nashville at this time, but the streets were very dark, 
badly lighted, and murder occasionally took place. I 
well remember how often I have walked at night through 
the streets with a lantern in one hand and a cocked 
pistol in the other, calling to those I was about to meet 
to keep on the other side of the street. On one or two 

* See the Personal Memoirs of General Grant, Volume 2, page 
386. 



St. Louis 333 

occasions, I heard a shot fired and learned afterwards 
that men had been killed. 

In one instance, a sentry told me, that it was "only 
a damn civilian." 

Toward the end of December, in order to increase 
the capacity of our hospitals still more, a number of 
houses belonging to people of Southern sentiment and 
affiliations were seized; some of these proved satisfac- 
tory, but as a rule the accommodation was too crowded 
and insufficient. 

On one occasion, in the early part of my stay at 
Nashville, I took possession of a large circus tent for 
a hospital, but found that it was useless, since it was 
impossible to heat it in any way, and the weather was 
exceedingly cold. 

The management of most of the hospitals was very 
good, but in some, it was not. There was evident 
rascality. I could not tell how or where the frauds 
were accomplished. To test the matter, knowing that 
the persons who furnished the hospital were men of 
doubtful character, I determined to make a wholesale 
arrest. Accordingly, one Saturday afternoon, I arrested 
eight or ten of the merchants, grocers, victuallers and 
general provision men. I had all of their books sent 
to my office, and spent Sunday in examining the in- 
tricacies of their accounts. I found out the secret of 
their frauds, which consisted in charging for more 
goods than were furnished, and paying the balance in 
money to corrupt officers, interested in the steal. These, 
I am happy to say, were not surgeons in charge, but 
were generally the lower officers, commissary sergeants 
and the like. All of this system was at once thoroughly 

broken up. 

One of the medical officers in charge of Hospital No. 



334 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

15 had made a large fortune in various ways, probably 
by falsity in his accounts, by corrupt speculation of every 
kind, by the purchase of condemned horses, by fattening 
them on government land and on government provender 
and re-selling them, and by many objectionable prac- 
tices. His rascality was evident, in these and other 
ways, which I cannot state. I gave him the option of 
resigning in twelve hours, or of preferring charges 
against him. He chose the former, and the Government 
was well rid of a bad officer. 

About this time, an event occurred which well-nigh 
cost me my commission. A portion of the North was 
at this time largely excited on the subject of negro 
troops. By some they were much over-estimated. One 
of these negrophiles was General Thomas, the Assistant 
Adjutant-General. Not greatly esteemed at Washing- 
ton, he seized upon the negro question as a means of 
ingratiating himself in the estimation of his superiors. 
He was sent from Washington to the west by the 
Secretary of War with a kind of roving commission, 
his duty being to look after the interest of negro troops 
wherever they might be found. His great object was 
to praise the negro troops, and to find as much fault as 
possible wherever he thought their interest neglected. 

Among other places, he visited Nashville, and in- 
spected the negro hospitals. With one of these hos- 
pitals, No. 16, he professed himself greatly displeased. 
This was the warehouse hospital, several stories in 
height, each room or ward of which was provided with 
a stove of the large kind known as the "bar-room" 
stove. These, the negroes, in spite of directions and 
precautions to the contrary, kept heated red-hot; the 
men, too, were dirty, and to a certain degree, this could 
not be prevented, as it was the character of their race. 



St. Louis 335 

Give them what clean linen we could, what clean pillows 
and pillow-cases we could, they would, in a very short 
time, be in a filthy condition. Indeed, it seemed, 
strangely enough, to be a prominent idea of the negro 
soldiers to keep their hair thoroughly greased, and for 
this purpose they would steal the candles and grease of 
every description, and using it plentifully as a pomade, 
would necessarily get their beds in a filthy state. This 
condition of affairs General Thomas, spied, and pro- 
fessed himself to be very indignant with the condition 
of his beloved negro troops. 

He sent for me in haste ; I met him in the street, and 
he opened on me a tirade of abuse, such as no officer 
should have addressed to another. He did not know me 
personally, but I frequently had met him in Washington 
and knew exactly what his status in the War Depart- 
ment was. I attempted to explain to him the cause of 
trouble, but he would hear no explanation. He took 
the opportunity of showing his power and rank, and 
ended his personal abuse of me with the threat that he 
would telegraph to the Secretary of War, and have me 
dismissed from the army at once. Of course, I had 
nothing to say. I simply bowed to him and turned 
on my heel and left him. 

I did not know what to do, and I knew that a com- 
plaint of any kind to the Secretary of War, concern- 
ing me, coming no matter from whom, would be in- 
stantly seized as an opportunity for dismissal. 

Now it happened that there was on duty at Nash- 
ville a most excellent and gentlemanly old soldier of the 
regular army, General Donaldson, a man of rank, good- 
heartedness and kindness, and also a man of means. 
As he was the Chief Quartermaster, I had frequent 



336 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

occasion to call on him for all imaginable supplies. I 
had bothered him a good deal, but I knew that he be- 
lieved that I was trying to do my duty, and had a cer- 
tain sort of good feeling toward me. IMoreover, his 
step-son, who had broken his nose, was a patient of 
mine. 

I went to General Donaldson and told him of the 
circumstances. I told him that it was impossible to 
keep the negroes clean, told him of my relations with 
the Secretary of War, and explained to him that any 
report from General Thomas would be most injurious 
to me. I went to him because I knew that General 
Thomas was about to dine with him that afternoon. 
"Put your heart at rest," said General Donaldson to 
me, "I know Thomas, I understand all the circum- 
stances, and will take great care to see that you shall 
not be injured in any way." 

The dinner took place, and Thomas was drawn out 
to make his complaint, concerning me. General Don- 
aldson told him that I was not remiss in my care of 
the negro troops; on the contrary, that I was a very 
energetic officer, and called upon him more than any 
other officer had done for supplies for the comfort of 
the negro troops. As a result, he impressed General 
Thomas with the idea of my efficiency in that particular 
direction, and so influenced him that the Adjutant-Gen- 
eral, in making his report, stated that my services in the 
interest of the negro troops had been of the most valua- 
ble character, and submitted not a word of complaint. 

I insert here a note which I received from General 
Donaldson, which shows the opinion entertained of the 
Adjutant-General and his efforts on behalf of the 
negroes : 



St. Louis 337 

"Nashville, 

Jan. 15, 1865. 
Dear Doctor : 

I went to see Genl. Thomas this morning, and talked 
with him about the colored hospital. I took occasion to 
speak of you, and the result of our talk was Genl. 
Thomas said he would take no steps to hurt you. We 
all understand how this subject is regarded, and how it 
may be used to injure. Genl. Thomas, however, was very 

much incensed against a doctor by the name of ' — , 

who is said to be much in the habit of cursing his pa- 
tients. 

Very truly, 

J. S. DONALDSON." 

I might here state as a curious fact that the negroes 
in this crowded hospital, with their stoves red-hot, with 
the wards overcrowded with men, women and children, 
all did remarkably well. It is true that the odor of 
the wards was abominable, and the cleanliness by no 
means what could have been wished, yet their wounds 
healed kindly and few intercurrent diseases occurred. 
The men seemed to be entirely free from pneumonia, 
and affections of that kind, from which the negroes 
are so apt to suffer. Comparatively few deaths took 
place, less indeed than the average number of such cases 
of white troops in well-ventilated hospitals. 

It was decided by the War Department to build for 
the negro troops a large pavilion hospital on the best 
model, thoroughly equipped, well ventilated, and situated 
two or three miles from town. The negro occupants 
were here placed under the best hygienic conditions, 
viewed from the standpoint of white troops, yet the mor- 
tality was fearful. They died from pneumonia and affec- 
tions of the chest very rapidly, and the results of the new 



338 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

hospital contrasted most unfavorably with the apparent 
overcrowded hospitals in which they had been placed 
in the city. 

In the early part of my stay in Nashville, when the 
negro hospitals were full, a great degree of insubordina- 
tion was noticed among these troops. Those who were 
not sick or injured insisted upon having free access to 
the hospital, especially when the women and children 
were furnished shelter in the hospital buildings. They 
beat down the guard, and attempted to force their way 
in. I was called to one of these hospitals on an occa- 
sion of this kind. The turbulent crowd gathered around 
the gate, and fiercely insisted upon pressing in. I 
stepped between them and the guard behind them, closed 
the gates, and ordered the guard to load with ball 
cartridge, and let the men see that this was done. I 
instructed them to fire on the first man who should 
attempt to pass the gates. I was asked, "Do you mean 
this?" I said, "Yes." The gates were opened as I went 
out, but not a single man attempted to pass the sentry 
line. 

At the negro hospital No. i6, a singular event took 
place. In visiting the hospital, one day when I was in 
the office, examining some of the books, I noticed in 
the mirror on the wall, the Surgeon in charge stealthily 
creeping along the entry, in stocking feet, and placing 
his ear to the chink of the door in an endeavor to hear 
what I was saying. I detected in the books evidence of 
irregularity, and on thinking the matter over, I was 
convinced that I had seen that man before. It flashed 
across me all at once that long before the war, in a 
visit to Cherry Hill Prison at Philadelphia, at a time 
at which my friend. Dr. Lassiter, was the resident phy- 
sician, he had asked me to see a prisoner, a counter- 



St. Louis 339 

feiter, who was engaged in carving in ivory some peculiar 
models. My Surgeon-in-charge of that hospital was 
that man; I was sure of it. I sent for him to come 
to my office, and I said to him, "Doctor, I have been 
looking over your accounts; something is wrong; but 
Doctor I have seen you before at Cherry Hill Prison; 
I know you." He changed color, and dropped on his 
knees, and made me the most astonishing confession. 
He repeated as if reading from a paper, the numerous 
incidents of robbery and theft of hospital stores; thus 
he would say, "On such and such a day, I stole an ounce 
of quinine," and so he enumerated a long list of articles 
pilfered, extending over a considerable period of time. 
These articles, he confessed that he sold to Southern 
agents, and that they were smuggled into the Southern 
Confederacy. He and his father-in-law had been con- 
victed of counterfeiting United States bank-notes. 
They were from Ohio, and had been imprisoned in the 
Eastern Penitentiary at Philadelphia. Of course, I re- 
moved him from the hospital and placed him under 
arrest. I notified the Assistant General and Surgeon- 
General and through them the Secretary of War. I at 
once received a telegram to place the man in the mili- 
tary prison, to report the case to General Thomas and 
to have him tried by court-martial, and in the mean- 
time, to open all letters addressed to him and find out 
what I could. These orders were literally executed. 
The Secretary was exceedingly angry and was deter- 
mined to punish him severely. 

However, letters continued to arrive from his wife 
near Pittsburgh, Pa., who knew nothing of the events 
which had been occurring; pitiful heart-broken letters, 
begging her husband to abstain from evil courses, to 
commit no robberies and to desist from sending her 



340 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

blankets and stores which she said she was sure he could 
not have acquired honestly. She told him at the same 
time that her children were suffering for food, that she 
had no credit with the baker or the grocer, and that 
she did not know what would become of them. 

Her letters were those of an honest woman, trying 
to do right and in great trouble of mind and body. 
These letters impressed me so much that I sent them to 
the Secretary of War with a strong appeal on behalf 
of the man. Finally, I was informed that I might leave 
him in the military prison under the idea of condign 
punishment to come, and I did so. The poor fellow 
remained in prison under the idea that he might be 
executed at any moment. He was still in prison when 
I left, and I have never heard anything more about him. 

I have said already that the hospitals in Nashville 
numbered eighteen or twenty. Among these was one 
especially appropriated for small-pox patients. I had 
on an average a chaplain and a half for each of the 
ordinary hospitals, but for the small-pox hospital it was 
impossible to obtain the services of such an officer. One 
morning, I announced that I intended in two days to 
detail a chaplain for the small-pox hospital. In the 
course of the next twenty- four hours, I was visited by 
almost every chaplain in Nashville, each one representing 
to me how much good he was doing, and how injurious 
it would be for the cause of religion and to the Govern- 
ment to move him from his present position. I finally 
selected one of the most inefficient chaplains under my 
command, and detailed him, despite his protest, to the 
hated office. He placed his tent outside of the limits 
of the hospital. I found on my next visit the following 
morning that he was by no means over-officious in his 
ministrations, nor did he ever become so. 



St. Louis 341 

At this time, numbers of civilian refugees were pour- 
ing into Nashville from the surrounding country. They 
were a wretched set, uneducated, ignorant, half-bar- 
barous, and in the most destitute state. Very many of 
their women and children required hospital accommoda- 
tion, and for this purpose, a refugee hospital was estab- 
lished and eventually proved of value. 

When I first entered on duty at Nashville, my detail 
was that of Superintendent and Director of General 
Hospitals. Later, in '64, I was ordered by General 
Thomas, commanding the Department of the Cumber- 
land, to act as Assistant Medical Director. On the nth 
of January, '65, I was ordered to perform the duties of 
Acting Medical Director of the Department of the Cum- 
berland in the absence of the Medical Director in the 
Field, but on his return to Nashville on February 15th 
I was relieved from this duty, and continued to act 
under my first detail of duty, that of Superintendent and 
Director of General Hospitals. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

LIFE AT NASHVILLE LECTURES- — HOME 

The Medical Director on General Thomas's Staff was 
Surgeon George E. Cooper. He had been the chief 
witness in the Court-martial of Surgeon-General Ham- 
mond, and it was especially on his testimony that Ham- 
mond had been cashiered from the army. He was a 
peculiar man, rough, coarse, and in a certain way honest. 
He hated Hammond, and at my first interview with him 
on my arrival at Nashville, he asked me, "Doctor, you 
were a friend of Hammond's, were you not?" I said, 
"Yes." "Do you believe him guilty or innocent?" I 
said, "I believe him innocent of fraud or intentional 
wrong-doing." He said, "I am glad you say so ; I knew 
you were a friend of Hammond's; I asked you the ques- 
tion to see whether you would answer me in a straight- 
forward manner. Now, Doctor, I will tell you, in the 
late trial, it was Hammond's head or mine, and I saved 
mine." 

Cooper treated me well, dealing with me in a straight- 
forward and honest manner, and I never received any- 
thing but kindness at his hands during my stay in 
Nashville. 

Nashville was always strong in its Southern feeling. 
There was very little Union element present, and where 
it existed, it depended upon self-interest rather than 
patriotism. The lower classes were altogether "secesh." 

I saw a remarkable evidence of presence of mind on 

342 



Life at Nashville — Lectures — Home 343 

one occasion, and had an opportunity of witnessing the 
power of one soldier when on duty. A soldier had 
arrested two Southern men and was trying to take them 
to the military prison. They refused to go with him, 
and the surrounding crowd sympathized with them, and 
obstructed the soldier in his duties. Finally, he cocked 
his gun, stepped back one pace, brought his gun so as 
to cover one of the prisoners in front, and then ordered 
them to march straight before him. He said, "If anyone 
attempts to interfere with these men, or to obstruct me 
in the discharge of my duty, I will fire, I will kill one 
or two; and then you may do with me as you like." 

Two or three officers, I among them, were sittmg on 
a balcony of a restaurant, smoking, and seeing the diffi- 
culty, but not knowing what it was, hurried down to his 
assistance, but the trouble had subsided when we reached 
there The men were marching quietly away as prison- 
ers, in front of this solitary soldier, who understood 
how thoroughly to discharge his duty. 

On one occasion, I received a peculiar request from 
the Provost Marshal. He said a negro came to his 
office a few days before, a servant in an old family which 
had left Nashville at the time it was occupied by our 
troops. Before going, he stated that they had taken all 
of their silver plate and valuable papers, had placed 
them in a coffin and had buried them m their lot in 
the cemetery. The Provost Marshal had been ordered 
to examine the lot and the coffin, and see whether the 
money was there or not. For some reason or other 
he ancied that a doctor would be a protection again 
ghosts or the like, and thought that it would be well 
fo hive me go with him when he made the examma- 
tion FoolisSly, I consented to accompany him on this 
horrible ghoul-like errand. We went to the cemetery 



344 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

in broad daylight, the guards were placed at the gates, 
and we approached the vault. Now, it was not a vault 
in our eastern sense of the term. Nashville is built 
upon a rock, the soil is only a foot or two deep, and 
so instead of burying their bodies, they placed them 
upon the ground in small iron houses constructed above 
ground, instead of digging a vault beneath the surface. 
On examining the door of the vault, there were evident 
signs that it had been opened by force, with a crowbar 
or pick, within twenty-four hours. However, the Pro- 
vost Marshal went on. The door was forced. There 
were coffins in plenty, but no evidences of posthumous 
disarrangements were to be seen. The negro adhered 
to his story. He stated that he had helped to deposit 
the silver in the coffin, and had helped to bring the 
coffin to the vault, but that things did not look as he 
left them. 

The Provost Marshal determined to search. He in- 
sisted upon unscrewing several coffins, but the treasure 
was not to be found. Finally, influenced by his dislike 
of the work, and by my earnest solicitations, he de- 
sisted and reported at headquarters the result of his 
search. A great outcry was raised about this piece of 
vandalism, and I afterwards learned that the negro had 
been right in his statement, but, somewhat unguarded 
in the use of his tongue, he had let out his secret before 
the information was given to the Provost Marshal, and 
the parties concerned had gone the night before and 
removed the treasure sought for. I was very much 
ashamed of my part in this transaction, for which I 
have no excuse except that of a certain kind of morbid 
professional curiosity of an anatomical pathological 
variety. 



Life at Nashville — Lectures — Home 345 

At this time, a series of robberies occurred in my 
office, which baffled all my efforts at investigation. Let- 
ters for patients in the hospital, with uncertain addresses, 
and oftentimes to medical officers, were sent daily to my 
office for distribution to the hospitals. Repeated com- 
plaints were made that letters known to be sent were not 
received at their destination, especially when these let- 
ters contained drafts or money. Investigation satisfied 
me that the thefts were committed in my office by some 
of the clerks or attendants on duty. I had frequent 
interviews with officials of the Post-office Department, 
but all our attempts failed to detect the delinquents. 
We therefore placed decoy letters in the mail, contain- 
ing marked bank-notes. Those which I placed in my 
box myself were stolen during the night. I determined 
to arrest everybody in the office, clerks, orderlies, and 
sentries, — and I should say that the sentries had been 
changed the night before, and strangers from distant 
commands placed on duty. A thorough search was made 
of the parties interested, the carpets were torn up, and 
drawers, books and papers overhauled, but all in vain, 
the daring thieves were never discovered, and no light 
could be obtained as to the adroit robberies. 

On the 6th of March, 1865, I received an invitation 
from the medical officers on duty at Nashville, asking 
me to give them a series of eight lectures on some points 
connected with the surgical history of the war. 

This I was most glad to do. I selected for my sub- 
ject the flight of projectiles, and the character of the 
wounds they produce at the entrance and exit, always a 
favorite subject of mine. The projectiles to illustrate 
the course, were kindly furnished to me by Major Mor- 
decai, of the Ordnance Department, and rifle barrels 



346 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

were sent to show the character of the rifling, etc. 
Many ilhistrations were prepared by one of my clerks, 
who was a good draughtsman. These projectiles and 
diagrams I have still, and have often used them. The 
lectures were delivered in the Hall of the Masonic Build- 
ing, a large room. My audience was a brilliant one, 
including all of the medical officers in Nashville, many 
of the Staff and other military officers in uniform, and 
others. I had two cavalry soldiers for assistants in 
uniform, and I lectured in full uniform. I enjoyed these 
lectures very much, and was only sorry that I could 
not give the entire course. This, however, was not pos- 
sible, as the lectures were brought to a close by the 
acceptance at Washington of my resignation. Of this 
I must say a few words. 

Since I had been relieved at Washington in October, 

1864, and sent to the West, I had made up my mind 
that in view of the approaching termination of the war, 
my family interests at home imperatively demanded that 
after serving a few months more, I should send in my 
resignation. This, I accordingly did on February 16, 

1865, in the following letters: 

"Nashville, Feby. 16, 1865. 
Genl : — 

I have the honor hereby to tender my immediate and 
unconditional resignation of my commission, as Surgeon 
of Volunteers ( formerly Brigade Surgeon, August 30th, 
1861). I am led to do so by the urgent necessity which 
exists for my immediate presence at my home in Phila- 
delphia, in order that I may protect the financial interests 
of my mother and sisters, jeopardized by unexpected 
circumstances, which no one but myself can properly act 
upon. 



4 



Life at Nashville — Lectures — Home 347 

I hereby state that I am not indebted to the U. S., 
that I have no pubHc property in my possession, except 
that which I am prepared to turn over to the proper offi- 
cers ; that I have not been absent without leave ; that no 
charges exist affecting my pay, and that I have not been 
subject at any time to charges, or trial by Court-martial. 
I was last paid by Major A. Holt to January 31, 1865. 

Very Respty, 

Yr. Obt. Servt. 

J. H. BRINTON, 

Surg. U. S. V. 
Brig. Genl. L. Thomas, 
Adjt. Genl. U. S. A. 

War Department, Washington, D. C." 

After a delay of some weeks, I received, March 23, 
1865, the following acceptance of my resignation: 

"B. 162. B. 165. 

War Dept. Adjt. General's Office, 

Washington, March 11, 1865. 

Sir: ., 

Your resignation has been accepted by the President 
of the United States, to take effect the 9th day of March, 
1865, on condition that you receive no final payments 
until you shall have satisfied the Pay Department that 
you are not indebted to the United States. I am Sir, 
Very resptfy. 

Yr. Ob't. Servt., 

(Sd) S. F. CHALFIN, 



Asst. Adjt. Genl. 



Surgeon John H. Brinton, 
U. S. Volunteers, 

Nashville, Tenn." 



348 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

Presenting this order at the headquarters of General 
Thomas, I was reheved from duty by the accompanying 
order : 

"Headquarters, Department of the Cumberland, 
Nashville, Tenn. March 23, 1865. 

SPECIAL FIELD ORDERS NO. 76 

[Extract] 

IV. Surgeon J. H. Brinton, U. S. V., is hereby re- 
lieved from duty in this Department, his resignation 
having been accepted by the War Department. 

By Command of Major General Thomas, 

HENRY M. CIST, 

Asst. Adjt. Genl. 
Surgeon J. H. Brinton, 
"U. S. V." 

No longer a soldier, I was now a citizen, and having 
turned over my official belongings to my successor in 
office, I prepared to return home. 

I received from some of the surgeons on duty at 
Nashville, a number of specimens of gunshot. These 
they had a right to give me, as they had been notified 
from Washington that they need forward no more wet 
preparations to the Museum. I was glad to get a few, 
and had them barreled, and afterward took them to 
Philadelphia, where they now form part of my cabinet. 
I had also collected some shot, shell and muskets, used 
to illustrate my lectures at the Masonic Hall. All these, 
I passed home under the following orders, a permit, 
which I obtained without trouble, as all my friends 
seemed to sympathize with me in my desire to take 
home my military illustrations for my future lectures. 



Life at Nashville — Lectures — Home 349 

"Headquarters, Department of the Cumberland, 
Office Prov. Mar. Genl., 

Nashville, March 23, 1865. 
Permit is hereby granted Surgeon J. H. Brinton, 
Supt. & Director of Hospitals to ship by express or 
otherwise from Nashville, Tenn., to Philadelphia, Pa., 
one keg, two boxes, and one package, containing two 
(2) damaged and condemned muskets and objects of 
professional interest. 

By command of 

MAJ. GENL. THOMAS, 
(Sgd) R. M. GOODWIN, 

Capt. & A. P. W. Genl." 

"Headquarters, Department of the Cumberland, 

March 23, 1865. 
Guard and Military Conductors will pass J. H. Brin- 
ton, Esq., beyond the limits of this Department. 
By Order MAJ. GENL. THOMAS, 

SOUTHARD HOFFMAN, 

A. A. G." 

I had greatly enjoyed my duty in Nashville. It had 
been full of incident and new experiences. At first, I 
had been overworked, but had soon gotten affairs in 
good running order, and with the exception of the 
Thomas incident, everything had gone along smoothly. 
I had formed, too, some very pleasant acquaintances, and 
among others, I greatly enjoyed the society of Surgeon 
Fletcher on duty as Medical Purveyor. He was an Eng- 
lishman, thoroughly educated, and a deep Shakesperean 
scholar. Many and many a pleasant talk we had together, 
and much I learned from him. After the war was ended, 
he was in the office of the Surgeon-General at Washing- 



350 Personal Memoirs of John H. Brinton 

ton, and was employed in the library of the office of the 
Surgeon-General, and in the preparation, with Dr. Bil- 
lings, of the Index Medicus. 

After taking leave of my friends at Nashville, my 
last official act was to order the running to Louisville 
of a hospital train of cars, for as the Director of Hos- 
pitals, I had charge of two or three trains, thoroughly 
fitted up for the conveyance of sick and wounded. On 
one of these, I shipped a number of invalids, with whom 
I went to Louisville. I was accompanied by one of my 
orderlies who had formed a strange attachment to me, 
why, I could not tell. He was as sharp as steel, and 
I never quite trusted him. In fact, at the time of the 
robbery of letters in my office, I suspected him. But 
odd as it may seem, the harder I was on him, the more 
he clung to me. Before I left, he said he would like 
a few days' absence, and come to Philadelphia with me. 
I assented and he did so, looking after my comforts 
with the utmost care, and paying great attention to the 
safety of my kegs and boxes; he behaved, indeed, as a 
model attendant. 

We stopped in Louisville, where I saw the Assistant 
Surgeon-General, and afterwards stayed a day in Cin- 
cinnati. We then went straight to Philadelphia, arriv- 
ing there in the latter days of March, 1865; my orderly 
starting for Nashville again on the same evening. 

I found my Mother and sisters well. How glad 
I was to be with them again I cannot tell you. It 
seemed strange to me to be once more a civilian, to lay 
aside my uniform, and to feel that I was again my 
own master. But it was hard to discard the habits 
acquired in the army, and to fall again into the humdrum 
customs of peaceful life. The Rebellion was now in 
its death gasp, military operations were over in the West, 



Life at Nashville — Lectures — Home 351 

and were closing in the East. On the 9th of April, 
1865, General Lee surrendered the Army of Northern 
Virginia, and the war was practically at an end. The 
news was telegraphed from Washington about ten 
o'clock in the evening, and our city was notified by 
the screeching of the whistles of the fire engines and 
by clamor and noise of every imaginable character. 
The War was over. The great experiment had been 
made. It had been definitely proven that the United 
States was a Nation. 



APPENDIX 

LETTERS FROM GENERALS GRANT, SHERIDAN AND ROSECRANS 



APPENDIX 

Near Corinth, Miss., 
May 24th, 1862. 
Hon, E. B. Washburn, 

Washington, D. C. 
Dear Sir: 

Permit me to introduce to your acquaintance Surgeon 
Brinton of the Army, a gentleman who has served on my 
Staff at Cairo and in the field. Dr. Brinton was with me at 
Belmont, Fort Henry and Fort Donelson, and as we have 
lived together most of the time for the last six months our 
acquaintance is more than transient, it has become intimate. 
Any attention shown Dr. Brinton will be regarded as a 
personal favor to myself. 

Yours truly, 

U. S. Grant. 



Holly Springs, Mississippi, 
Jan. 7th, 1863. 
Hon. E. B. Washburn, M.C, 

Washington, D. C. 
Dear Sir: 

Learning that additional Medical Inspectors, with the 
rank of Lieut. Col., are to be appointed, I want to urge the 
appointment of Surgeon J. H. Brinton, who is now on duty 
in Washington, having been selected as one to compile the 
Medical History of this rebellion. 

I have selected you to write to on this subject because you 
have always shown such willingness to befriend me. I ac- 
knowledge the many obligations I am under to you and 
thank you from the bottom of my heart for them. I wilt 
feel further obligation if you can give this matter your atten- 
tion and support, 

355 



356 Appendix 

Dr. Brinton has served with me and messed with me. I 
know him well. He is an honor to his profession and to the 
service both for his moral worth and attainments in and out 
of his profession. 

Although yet but a young man you will find that Dr. Brin- 
ton has won for himself, in Philadelphia where he resides, a 
reputation attained by but few in the country, of any age, 
and by none others as young as himself. 

I am now feeling great anxiety about Vicksburg. The 
last news from there was favorable, but I know that Kirby 
Smith is on his way to reinforce Johnson. My last advices 
from there were to the 31st. If Banks arrived about that 
time all is well. If he did not Sherman has had a hard time 
of it. 

I could not reinforce from here in time, and too much 
territory would be exposed by doing it if I could. 

Yours truly, 

U. S. Grant. 



West Point, N. Y., 

June nth, 1873. 
My dear Doctor : 

Learning from your letter of the 9th inst. that you are a 
candidate for the "Professorship of Anatomy" in the Jeffer- 
son Medical College of Pa., it affords me pleasure to bear 
testimony to your professional skill and ability as demon- 
strated, in the field, in the early days of the rebellion. At 
Donelson particularly I always regarded the improvised ar- 
rangements for taking care of the wounded as due to your 
executive ability and energy, and the care taken of them — 
and success in bringing so many badly wounded out alive — 
as very largely due to your professional skill. 

While I do not join in special recommendation of one 
friend over another for any position over which I exercise 
no control, yet I can say, and do say unreservedly, that I do 
not doubt but that if the coveted professorship should fall to 
you it will be filled with honor and credit to the institution, 
and that the directors who put you there will never have 
reason to regret the choice. 



Appendix 357 

My kindest regards to Mrs. B.— to whose friends I once 
gave a favorable endorsement of you— and the children. 

Very truly yours, 

U. S. Grant. 
Dr. J. H. Brinton, 
Phila., Pa. 



Chicago, III., 

June i6th, '73. 
It gives me great pleasure to acknowledge a personal ac- 
quaintance with Dr. Brinton during the War of the Rebel- 
lion. In common with all his acquaintance, I can bear testi- 
mony to his high professional standing and the zeal with 
which he worked in the cause of science. 

His devotion to the unfortunate wounded of our Armies 
will always be gratefully remembered by his sincere friend, 

P. H. Sheridan, 

Lt. General U. S. A. 



Philadelphia, Pa., 
June 9th, 1873. 
My dear Doctor : 

Learning that you are to be an applicant for a medical 
professorship, I thought you might be gratified to have a 
note from me saying that during your service as Surgeon in 
the Dept. of Missouri under my command I formed a very 
high opinion of your ability and professional qualification, as 
evinced by my appointment of you a chief medical director 
of the Army in the field during the campaign against Price 
in 1864, the duties of which, as all others under my com- 
mand, you discharged in a manner that commanded my 
approbation and won my personal esteem. 

Wishing you a successful and happy professional career, I 

remain alwavs your friend, 

W. S. Rosecrans. 

Dr. J. H. Brinton, 

Philadelphia, Pa. 



INDEX 



Aigner, Dr., loi 

Annapolis, investigation of gangrene 

at, 225 
Antietam, arrival at, 205 

the wounded at, 206 
Army Medical Museum, inception of, 
179 

orders establishing, 180, 183 

assistant curator for, 185 

first catalogue of, 188 

whiskey for, 191 

relief from duty at, 312 
Army Medical School, 257 
Army Registers, 224 
Asch, M. J., Assistant Surgeon, 179 

Bache, Dallas, Surgeon, 327 

Bache, Dr. Thomas, 246 

Barnes, Surgeon, 259, 309 

Belle Plain, 268 

Belmont, Battle of, etc., 70 

Boker, Dr. Charles S., sends London 

"Punch," 164 
library cases of, 185 
Brigade Surgeons, 18, 171 
Brinton, Colonel Joseph, 272 
Bryant, Surgeon James, 229 
Buell, General, 148 
Bull Run, 21 
Burke, Acting Assistant Surgeon, at 

Cairo, 52 
Butler, Benamin, 275 
Butler, Major, 80 

Cabell, General, capture of, 320 
Cairo, arrival at, 34 

organization of, 54 

army society at, 98 

Christmas at, 100 
Chancellorville, secret duty at, 234 
Chase, Secretary, 260 
Clymer, Dr., 170, 175 
Columbus, Ohio, trip to, 55 
Confederate Surgeons, visit to, at 

Columbus, O., 58 
Coolidge, Dr., 197, 224 
Cooper, Surgeon, 342 
Corcoran, Mr., seizure of his school 

house for Museum, 183 
Coxe, Charles, 255, 270 
Coxe, Brinton, 15, 32 

DaCosta, Dr. J. M., 31. 32 

Davis, Surgeon, at Fort Donelson, 126 

Dennis, Dr., 209 

Dienstl, Dr., at Vienna, 242 



Donaldson, General, at Nashville, 335 
Douglas, Mrs. Stephen A., 263, 313 

Edward, Surgeon Lewis A., 179 

Fort Donelson, 113 

casualties at, 1 18 

incidents of the siege, 122 

behavior of medical officers at, 122 
Fort Henry, 113 
Frederick, Md., ordered to, 203 
Fredericksburg, 213 
Fremont, General J. C, ordered to 
report to, 29 

description of headquarters of, 30, 
32, 33 

Geary, Colonel John W., 23 
Gettysburg, arrival at, 240 

description of, etc., 241 

sanitary and Christian commission- 
ers at, 243 

relic hunters at, 243 
Girardeau, Cape, 95 
Goldsmith, Dr. Middleton, 227 
Goodman, Dr. Ernest, 24 
Gordon, Surgeon, at Belmont, 94 
Grant, General U. S., first impres- 
sions of, 36 

at Cairo, 66 

expedition with, 96 

sustained by at Cairo, 104 

with Grant at Fort Henry, 115 

sword presented by, 132 

correspondence of, 134 

humor of, 140 

photograph of, 146 

reprimand of, 147 

sword presented at Fort Henry, 148 

kindness of, 149 

abilities of, 238 

on the art of war, 239 

created Lieutenant General, 261 

headquarters at City Point, 277 
Grant, Mrs. U. S., arrival at Wash- 
ing^ton, 266 

Halleck, General, 47, 110 

rumor of "Dictatorship,' 201 
Hamilton, Dr. Frank S., 26 
Hammond, Surgeon General, 48 

character of, 171 

at Fortress Monroe, 174 

kindness of, 223 

injustice to, 255 

anonymous note concerning. 309 



359 



360 



Index 



Hawkins, General, 64, 104 

Hay, John, at Metropolitan Club, 260 

Hewitt, Dr. Henry S., 26 

at Fort Donelson, 119 

sketch of, 122 

poem by, 122 
Hiller, Captain, 128 

Jenny, Captain, 331 
ohnston. General Joe, 60 

Kane, Dr. John K.. 99 
Kelton, Colonel, 165 

Lacy, House, 221 
Lane, Senator, 249 
Le Conte, Dr., 177 
Letterman, Surgeon J., Medical Di- 
rector, 220 
Lincoln, Abraham, ridiculed, 19 

incident of the flag, 20 

call for volunteers, 21 

New Year's reception, 225 

at Acquia Creek, 232 

insufficiency of personal attendance, 
261 

incident of the soldier, 265 
Louisville, gangrene at, 227 

detailed to in 1864, 307 
Lyman, Dr. George H., 26 
Lynch Law at Mound City, 45 

Marcy, General, 177 
Marmaduke, General, capture of, 320 
Meade, General, at Belle Plain, 273 
Medical Director, at Cairo, 60 

at Belmont, 93 

of Department of the Mississippi, 
156 

of Transportation at Alexandria, 
19s 

at Nashville, 325 
Meigs, Dr. John Forsyth, 16 
Metropolitan Club, 260 
Mills, Madison, 315, 322, 324 
Mitchell, S. Weir, Introduction by, 9 
Mordecai, Major, 345 
Mosby, Captain John S., 269 
Moss, Dr., 185, 214, 220 
Mound City, Mo., description of, 40 

malaria at, 49 
Muir, Dr., of British army, 211, 250 
Murfreesboro, 230 

Miitter, Prof., loss of his surgical in- 
struments, 91 
McClellan, Arthur, 28, 50, 177 
McClellan, General George B., 29, 
108 

curiosity in reg-ard to Grant, 177 

reinstatement of, in 1862, 202 

inactivity after Antietam, 211 

incident at Metropolitan Club, 310 
McClellan, Dr. John, letter to, 50 
McClernand, Dr., at Cairo, 102 

sketch of, 103 
McCullough, Secretary, 260 
McDougall, Medical Director, 156 
McKeever, Major, 33 



McParlin, Surgeon General, 274 
McPherson, Lieut. Col. James B., 130 

Nashville, with Grant at, 139 

gangrene at, 227 

description of, 229 

the wounded at, 328 

various details at, 341 

medical lectures at, 345 

resignation at, 346 
Nelson, General, at Donelson, 139 
Nicolay, Mr., at Metropolitan Club, 

260 
Norris, Dr. William F., 282 
Nurses, Volunteer, a nuisance at 
Mound City, 43 

Ochschlager, Surgeon, 305 
Orders, Sept. 4, 1861, 29 

Sept. 16, 1861, 38 
Otis, George A., Surgeon, 312 

Pancoast, Prof. Joseph, 23, 25 
Philadelphia, return to, in 1862, 168 

visits to, in 1863, 252 

return to, 350 
Pike, Granny White, 332 
Pillow, General, meeting with, 57 
Pittsburg Landing, 155 
Pleasanton, General, 319 
Polk, General, meeting with, 57, 157, 

196 
Polk, Mrs. James K., 331 
Porter, Commodore, 106 
Porter, Surgeon, 286 
Powhatan, Fort, 176 
Price, General, 320 

Rawlins, General John A., with 
Grant at Cairo, 37 

incident of his horse, 136 

protection of Grant, 136 

at Belle Plain, 272 
Rigor mortis, 207 
Roberts, Assistant Surgeon, 251 
Rosecrans, General, meeting with, 319 

sketch of, 324 

St. Louis, description of, 32 

arrival at, 107, 155 

third arrival at, 316 

society in, 322 
Savannah, experiences at, 152 
Schafhert, assistance at museum, 184 
Scofield, General, at St. Louis, 108 
Scott, General Winfield, 22 
Scull, Major, 247, 288, 318, 322 
Sheridan, General, meeting with, 162 

meeting at Murfreesboro, 230 

at Winchester, 290 
Sidell, J. J., Surgeon, 251 
Simons, Dr., reports to, at Cairo, 34, 

35, 36, 101 
Smith, General A. J., 320 
Smith, General C. F., at Fort Don- 
elson, 120 

sketch of, 122 



Index 



361 



Smith, General C. F., incidents of, 
129, 159, 160 

death of, 159 
Smith, General Gustavus W., 60 
Spurs, at Battle of Belmont, 82 
Stanton, Secretary, 174, 199, 255, 280 
Stone, Assistant Surgeon at Belle 

Plain, 269 
Stuart, Edward T., footnotes by, 23 
Stuart, George H., 277 
Sturgis, General, at St. Louis, 108 
Sumner, Charles, 260 
Sumners, Dr., 201 
Surgical History of Rebellion, 169 

plans for, 172 

progress of, 203 
Sweeny, at St. Louis, 108 

Thomas, Asst. Adjutant General, 334 
Thomson, Mr. Frank, 214 
Thomson, Dr. William, 21, 204, 232, 

251, 282 
Thorn, Colonel, at St. Louis, 108, 

16s 
Thurston, Surgeon, at Nashville, 230 
Totten, Colonel, at St. Louis, 108 



Van Rensselaer, J. C, box sent by, 
48 
at St. Louis, 108 
Vroom, Ex-Governor, 8 1 

Wallace, Dr. Ellersly, 241 
Wallace, General Lewis, 279 
Washington, appearance of, in 186 r, 
170 

return to, after Fredericksburg, 222 

life at, in 1863-1864, 253, 254 

society in 1864, 262 
Webster, Dr. Warren, 170 
Weit, Dr., at Monocacy, 204 
White, Harrison, death of. 207 
Whitnell, Surgeon, at Belmont, 94 
Wilderness Campaign, 267 
Wilkes, Commodore, 263 
Williams, General Seth, 177 
Winchester, detailed to, 291 

report on battle, 298 
Woods, Colonel, at St. Louis, 108 
Woodward, J. J., Assistant Surgeon, 
179. 194) 251 

Yeatman, James E., at St. Louis, 109 



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